Unpredicted World
by Dark Wolf Shadow
Summary: Harry Potter is adopted by a couple definitely not approved by Dumbledore, and grows up in a vastly different environment. T for later relationships, suggestive language, and some cursing. SLASH WARNING: Don't like, don't read. RL/SB HP/? CHPT 1 UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1: Unexpected Happenings

Chapter One: Unexpected Happenings

When little Harry Potter was left on the chilly doorstep of Number Four Privet Drive, Albus Dumbledore had no clue that his idealized theory of Harry's upbringing was completely false. He assumed that when Mrs. Petunia Dursley opened the door in the morning, she would welcome her sister's son with open arms, especially after reading in the letter of her dear sister's murder. Instead, the eighteen-month-old baby boy would be greeted with a scream. In a few hours time, as the sun rose, the Boy- Who- Lived would be introduced into an entirely new world.

Justin Benson, at age 18, met Taylor Levey in some boring English class in Justin's freshman year of college. It was one of those core classes that everyone had to take, even art majors like him, but everything changed when that tall, dirty blonde-haired man sat next to him with a smile. Taylor was, surprisingly, similar to Justin in many ways. Despite their outwardly clashing personalities, what with Justin being an artist and Taylor planning on becoming a doctor, they got along extremely well. Both men were gay, or in Justin's case, bisexual. The artist could appreciate beauty and love in any form, though he lacked experience of any kind. The relationship between the two "friends" grew into something more at a stupid college frat party, that neither man could now remember the cause for. Both were drunk, and Justin had sloppily kissed his best friend in front of a room full of people before running off. They shared their first real date the next day.

Like all relationships, the "perfect couple" hit a rough patch after nearly two years that ended in a nasty break-up. Unfortunately, this separation lasted for the final two years of medical school for Taylor. Despite this long span of not speaking, Taylor showed up at Justin's apartment in New Hampshire in July, with a bag of clothes in his car, and hands shaking with nerves.

"Taylor?" The artist barely dared to breath. "What are you doing here?"

He took a deep breath. "The hospital where I'll be doing my residency is about half an hour from here, and I'll be starting next week. Once I'm done with that, there's a few pediatrician's and doctor's offices within an hour of here, which is easy enough to commute."

Justin leaned against the doorframe. "What are you saying, Taylor?"

Big blue eyes stared at him. "That's why we broke up. Because I was always gone to classes, and I was always really busy, and we didn't know where I'd end up for my residency or what I'd do after. And now I know, and I'm making sure that I can be near you."

Chocolate brown eyes widened in comprehension, quickly becoming moist. "You want to try again?" The older man nodded, too nervous to speak. Justin grinned. "Better come inside, then."

The newly reunited couple spent the next few days catching up, and talking (and a few other "activities"), and finally went out for dinner together as a couple again on the thirtieth of July. By the time their first anniversary rolled around, they were looking into buying a house together, and on the second, they were living in a beautiful home on Piper Hill Road in Colebrook, New Hampshire, with two horses in the field, and magnificent trails in the other 20 acres of land. The house was bought with the money Justin's father left him upon his death; money that had initially been set aside for a college fund, but became a house/car/whatever fund upon receipt of multiple art scholarships.

Justin and Taylor's third Christmas together of "Take Two", as Justin called it, was coming around, and the pediatrician was getting worried that the relationship would last. After the purchase of their house, neither had brought up any other major issue; they were content with their lives. But with the pediatrician's thirtieth birthday sneaking up on him, a large hole was becoming present in his life; the entire reason he became the type of doctor he did. Taylor loved children. He grew up in a big family, where there were always a few older cousins running around to help take care of him, and when he was older, younger cousins racing around for him to look after. Children were a risky subject, since not all people wanted kids, and certainly not all 25 year old men were ready to be fathers. It wasn't until after Thanksgiving that the doctor was able to bring up the subject, right as they were going to bed. "What do you think of kids?" he blurted.

The artist frowned at him. "What sort of question is that?"

Taylor gulped. "Do you like kids?"

"Yes, now tell me why you're asking!" Justin was close to panicking.

"Iwantakid," he rushed, squeezing his eyes shut.

He chuckled. "You're going to have to repeat that, hun."

"I want to adopt a kid," Taylor whispered, feeling his partner freeze beside him, not daring to open his eyes. This was it- the breaking point. If Justin didn't want children… he didn't know what he would do.

Soft lips descended upon his, pressing into them hungrily. "Please tell me you're not joking."

"I'm not joking." Taylor shot back warily.

"Good. Because tomorrow, we're going to call an adoption agency." He grinned at his partner.

Taylor stared at him, shocked. "Wait, you want a kid too?"

The brunette frowned at him. "When did I give the impression that I didn't want to have a baby?"

He shrugged. "Never explicitly, but I assumed that since you didn't say anything…."

Justin kissed his doctor's cheek, fighting back laughter. "I wasn't ready? I thought the same thing about you."

Taylor shook his head. "Well, I guess we're both idiots then. Girl or boy?"

"Does it matter? He or she will be our baby. Well, not baby baby. I don't think I can handle that."

"Agreed." Taylor sighed. "But not older than six. I want a couple of years before he or she has to go to school."

"Definitely. Now sleep. I know you haven't been sleeping well for a while."

He groaned. "How did you know?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Hun, we've shared a bed for three years. Do you really think I don't know your sleeping habits by now?"

Unfortunately, it was much harder to adopt a child than they anticipated. With no marriage, few agencies they contacted were willing to even consider them as viable parents. Even fewer social service agencies offered them foster care as an alternative. As much as Taylor's medical degree helped, neither man wanted to have a foster child that could be taken away from them at a moment's notice. They were reaching a breaking point by the time their third anniversary neared, and Taylor was glad they would be leaving the country and going abroad for two weeks in celebration. It would be a nice break from their slowly dwindling hopes.

On their anniversary, Justin was getting a bit stir-crazy, so instead of spending the day in their hotel, the pair decided to drive through the countryside, near Surrey. Taylor drove that day, so Justin could watch the country go by, and be ready for a photograph. It wasn't long before Justin saw something that had the potential to stop them for hours, and a significant chance of depressing them: a sign for St. Augustine's Orphanage. Taylor sighed, looking at his partner. "Are you sure you want to do this today?"

"Please?" the artist begged. "It might be good luck to try today!"

Blue eyes rolled. "Okay, if you're sure." He pulled over and turned their rental car around.

The long driveway set the old brick building back from the road. The grass was neatly trimmed, ivy on the walls restricted from windows and doors, and the glass panes were clean. The laughter of children could be heard, and when the pair got out of the car to peer around the side of the building, they found a playground with several children under the age of eight playing.

A simple waiting room, not unlike that of a doctor's office, greeted them once through the front door. The receptionist was reading a book, a bored look on her face. Looking up, she pasted a smile on. "How can I help you?"

Taylor smiled at her. "My partner and I were wondering if we could meet some of the kids. We want to adopt, and we haven't found the right one yet." She didn't appear too surprised; she just smiled that fake smile again and nodded.

"Of course. I'll have to see some identification, just to protect the children, but then I can have one of the sisters give you a tour and introduce you."

After about ten minutes of waiting, and some paperwork filing, again for safety, Sister Agatha, a plump woman in her mid-fifties, briskly led them down the quiet hallway to the left of the reception area. "What age group are you thinking about, gentlemen? And do you have any preference to gender or anything like that?"

Justin crinkled his forehead, frowning slightly. "Why would gender or anything else matter? We were hoping to find a child under five, but other than that it doesn't matter to us. As long as we have a kid we can make happy, and love."

The woman smiled warmly at him. "I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Benson. Did you want to meet the infants? We thankfully only have two right now, a little boy and his twin sister, six months old. They were left at the hospital after their mother passed away in an accident. The father didn't want them."

Taylor looked at his partner. "I'm not sure we can handle babies that young. We're fine financially, but…"

Sister Agatha smiled again. "That is understandable. We would rather not have unprepared parents to such young children. The playroom for the toddlers is over here." She opened the last door on the left, letting them enter first. "These children are between two and four. Go on in."

Taylor and Justin stepped into the brightly painted room full of shouting children. There were perhaps ten children in the room, three girls they could spot and many boys. Some boys were playing with the blocks in a corner, the girls were playing with the dolls, and others were coloring or playing by themselves. Another nun, who had been playing with the children, stood to greet them. Justin, however, didn't get a chance to get her name, as he was mobbed by four children and dragged over to their corner, where he was instructed to build them a tower.

Taylor decided he was going to go over to one of the children playing alone. In another corner was a small table, and seated at it was a small black haired boy who was maybe one and a half, coloring. Kneeling next to him, Taylor looked at his drawing. The page was covered in blue and orange scribbles. A distinctive 4 legged animal with a tail and some sort of point on its head, perhaps meant to be an ear, stood out in its vibrant purple crayon. Talented, for someone still perfecting their fine motor skills.

"Hi there. What're you drawing?"

The little boy looked up and stared at Taylor with eerily beautiful green eyes. "'Nicorn." he said softly, barely even whispering. He continued drawing, grabbing a blue crayon.

"I'm Taylor. What's your name?"

The boy didn't even look up. "Ev'n." He added a scribble on top of the purple unicorn.

"Can I draw with you Evan? I love drawing." He gave no answer other than a shrug. Taylor sat next to him quietly, taking a piece of paper. They spent the next ten minutes in silence, sharing the pack of crayons. When he was done, he held up the picture for Evan to critique. "What do you think?"

Evan burst into giggles at the stick figure drawing, and a stream of senseless chatter followed. After another twenty minutes of drawing, Taylor had made up his mind. "Evan, do you want to meet my friend Justin?" He glanced over at his partner and moved his head minutely. Justin immediately stood up and left the boys to finish the tower-turned-castle.

Evan frowned. "Is he nice like you?"

"He's very nice." Taylor smiled up at Justin. "Justin, this is Evan. Evan, this is my friend Justin. He likes drawing too, and he's much better at it than me."

By the time nap time came around, the Americans had made a decision, without having to talk to each other about it. Sister Agatha closed the door to the room behind them, smiling. "I saw you bonded with little Evan."

The two madly grinning men nodded. "We want to take him home." Justin blurted.

She smiled warmly at them, and began walking to her office. "There will be quite a lot of paperwork involved, as you two live in the States, but you should be able to adopt him. I would suggest legal consul for what needs to happen on your end to allow Evan to remain with you. Once he is adopted, you will have to apply for dual citizenship for him, I believe. We will have to do a background check, naturally, and you will have to be approved by Social Services, including an inspection of your home. I sincerely hope that everything turns out well. Evan is what we classify as a 'slow to warm up' child. He doesn't connect with many people, but he certainly bonded with both of you."

Curious, Taylor asked her about the toddler's age. He and Justin were surprised when she shrugged. "We weren't given his birth certificate, and he was left on our doorstep in early January. Thankfully he wasn't outside long enough to have any physical damage. The doctor's best guess is that he is nearly two, based on his development." She sighed. "Evan's had a few social problems, and according to the doctor, he may have more problems later on." Taylor nodded, knowing already what she was going to say.

"He has problems talking, and he seemed a bit distant, almost like he didn't want to connect with us at first."

Sister Agatha looked at him in surprise. "Yes, exactly. It most likely stems from being abandoned, especially in such cold weather, and then being brought here, where we sadly don't have enough one-on-one attention."

Again, Taylor nodded. "A lot of children with neglectful homes or not enough attention during the first two years of life have similar problems. I'm a pediatrician, so I know what the norms are for development," he explained.

Over the next six months, Justin practically lived in the U.K., staying very close to the orphanage. He visited with Evan every single day that he was there, making sure the boy knew he was wanted. Social Services approved them quickly, especially after seeing their financial situation, and knowing Evan would be well cared for. The paper work and legality of the adoption itself, as Sister Agatha suggested, caused Justin and Taylor to hire a lawyer in the U.S. and consult him often.

Phone bills escalated over night, as the couple talked nearly every day. They had lived together for so long that both men had problems sleeping alone. Their relationship, thankfully, didn't suffer too much from the separation thanks to these expensive phone calls. Many nights were spent talking about a Plan B, if they couldn't adopt Evan. Justin was quite partial to kidnapping, and his better half was inclined to agree. Taylor flew out to England for the last two weeks of the process to finalize his part of the paperwork, while Justin stayed home to prepare Evan's room and take care of the horses.

Evan Jameson, son of Taylor Levey and Justin Benson, went to his home in Colebrook, New Hampshire on December 10. Dual citizenship was granted, and when it came time to produce a birth date, Justin and Taylor had some troubles. The government produced a new birth certificate for him that listed 'unknown' for mother, father, and town. The country, obviously, was listed as England. After much deliberation, the couple decided that Evan's birthday would be celebrated on July 31, the day after their anniversary, unknowingly choosing the true day of his birth.


	2. Chapter 2: Strange Memories

_Sorry that this chapter took so long, but I made it longer to make up for the wait. _

_Thanks to Linny, my wonderful beta, this chapter has been edited and made pretty darn good. _

_ForeverEmrys: (gives cookie) He may or he may not. He's definitely not going to start in Hogwarts, though. Perhaps later on, as I have plans concerning some of the characters there. _

_HappeeGoLuckee: I'm glad you like it. Have a cookie._

_Sweet-single: Thank you. Here's a cookie. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing but cookies, Justin, Taylor, and their families._

Chapter Two: Strange Memories

A forest green Range Rover bounced along on the winding, snow-covered road, traveling up the mountain. The man sitting in the passenger's seat kept turning his deep brown eyes to the back seat.

"Justin. Stop it. He's fine." the blonde driver snapped quietly, even though he himself was checking the rearview mirror frequently.

The object of their distraction slept soundly on, strapped securely into his car seat. Evan was wrapped snugly in a woolen sweater, handmade by his Grandma Fi, Justin's mother. She, along with Taylor's parents, was waiting back at the house to meet their grandson. Justin's sister would be joining them in a few days with her husband. No one wanted Evan to be overwhelmed, so they had toned down the usual Levey- Benson Christmas Extravaganza. Other years, they would have had Taylor's cousins, Lydia and Claire, join them with their families, and Justin's Aunt Aggie and company, but the whole group decided that this would be far too much for a two-year-old still adjusting to his new home.

The car pulled up to a large house. The snow covered front yard lined both sides of the driveway. They drove into the spacious 3-car garage that was connected to the 2 story deep red house. Taylor turned off the car and hopped out. Justin followed, and grabbed the bags from the back as his partner unbuckled the sleeping toddler.

"Evan, sweetie. Time to wake up. We're home." he spoke softly, hating to disturb him. Evan stirred, opening his fist and yawning. He blinked sleepily.

"Taywer whew Justin?" he asked, confused, in his adorable baby British accent.

"I'm right here honey. I just had to grab our stuff." Taylor looked over at him, and had to struggle to keep from laughing. Justin was laden down with his messenger bag, Taylor's backpack, the diaper bag (they had only started potty training last week), and the rolling suitcase with Evan's things. "Do you want to go in now? I know there are some people who really want to meet you." Evan shrunk back in his car seat, away from the looming threat of strangers. "Its okay hon. Your new grandparents want to meet you. They're really nice." he struggled to save his attempt.

Taylor's comment, however, did the trick. "They brought you presents for Christmas, and Fi made cookies just for you."

Evan squealed and nearly jumped out of the car. Taylor caught him just in time and set him down gently. As Taylor opened the door into the house, the scent of chocolate and cookie dough wafted out into the garage. With Evan clinging tightly to Taylor's hand, the three boys walked into the warm house.

Things in the Levey-Benson home started off tense. Evan, naturally, was scared by all the new people and things. Once he met Taylor's beloved dog, however, the situation improved drastically. The big black Labrador instantly took a liking to Evan, and he to the dog. 'Wolfie' Wolfgang Mozart could barely ever be separated from his new favorite person, who liked to follow him around attached to his tail. Once, Justin even caught Evan riding poor Wolfie like he was a horse.

Christmas flew by. Evan was seen around the house with Wolfie, often babbling nonsensically to him. This being normal behavior for a child of two, Taylor and Justin thought nothing of it. Although, they were slightly concerned when he called the dog 'Unca Siri'.

The winter passed calmly. Evan got used to the house, and was ecstatic to play in the snow every day. He loved the horses, the goats, and of course the dog. When spring came, Evan was sad to see the snow leave, but forgot about it when he learned he would help his Papa (Justin) in the garden.

One beautiful day in May, Justin was getting his horse Ardeth ready for a trail ride. Grandma Fi was in the house taking care of Evan, so that he could actually leave the house. The calm gelding was the perfect horse for Justin, as he often stopped to snap pictures of the wildlife and foliage. His plans, however, changed when Evan got away from Fi and found him in the barn.

"Papa? Wewe you goin'?" the boy asked, blowing his bangs off of his scarred forehead.

"For a ride." He knelt next to his son. His _son. _That still sent a swell of pride and joy through the photographer. "Did you want to come with me?" He was more than willing to sacrifice the serenity of one afternoon to be with Evan.

His face lit up. "Yeah yeah yeah yeah!" He started jumping up and down. "Gonna wide a weal horsie!" he chanted exuberantly. Justin chuckled, happy that with one simple sentence, he had made Evan this excited.

Later that afternoon, after their reluctant return and Fi had gone home, Evan was coloring quietly in a book in a corner of the living room. Justin was sketching in his special pad, the one full of drawings of Evan. His light was interrupted by a shadow looming over him. "Hey," he objected childishly, looking up and pouting. He was reconciled by a quick kiss. "Welcome home. Have a good day at work?"

Taylor snorted as he plopped himself down on the couch next to his partner. "Depends on your definition of 'good'. Sweet, adorable kids, but bratty, paranoid parents." he sighed, leaning on Justin's shoulder. "How was your day?"

Justin grinned. "Awesome. I took him for a ride." Taylor shot up, jaw dropped.

"What?! On a horse?!" He started at Justin like he had three heads. His look was returned with a 'what do you think I meant'.

"I put a helmet on him, we only walked, and I was on Ardeth." He tried to console Taylor, and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. The doctor relaxed slightly.

"Did he have fun?"

Justin grinned. "He threw a tantrum when I made him get off."

Taylor gave him the bug-eyed look again. They both knew by this point that it was very rare for Evan to throw a tantrum. It had only happened once before, right after they had taken the broom away from him. He had tried to 'fly' down the stairs with it, and they were extremely lucky that Taylor has amazing reflexes, and caught Evan as he jumped.

"He seriously threw a tantrum? Better or worse than the other one?"

"Much better." Justin reassured him. "I don't know how he gets all these crazy ideas." Taylor smiled, and relaxed into Justin, shutting his eyes for a moment. Their cute mushy-gushy moment was ruined by Evan screaming. They scrambled off the couch and sprinted to his corner, where he was staring out the window, face pressed against the glass. Taylor had left his motorcycle in the driveway, but nothing else was in sight.

Evan turned away from the window, his face shining with pure joy, babbling in excitement. The only words they could pick out were 'cycle cycle cycle', 'fly', and 'Paddy'.

Taylor and Justin refused to let the 2 and a half year old ride on the bike, even if it was just in the driveway. This, of course, prompted the third tantrum of Evan. The screaming fit lasted for nearly two hours, and only stopped because he fell asleep. Taylor did, later on in the week of course, show Evan him on his bike, and did a few tricks for him. For a week, Taylor was Paddy, and occasionally Paddyfoo, whatever that meant. Paddy turned to Daddy, and Taylor didn't stop smiling for days.

Before they knew it, June had come and gone, and it was nearing the end of July. Since it was going to be Evan's first birthday with Taylor and Justin, they decided to make it special. What Justin wanted to do was have a petting zoo, but Taylor and his sensible mind vetoed the idea instantly. The pair weren't exactly well liked in the community, and as such, their guest list was severely limited. It would be a big party, composed of relatives and far away friends. Taylor gave in to Justin's pleading, and agreed to pony rides and goat petting.

In the end, they invited 24 people. Unfortunately, a lot of their friends were busy and couldn't come. Only 14 people were going to be there, but they were both ecstatic that Taylor's cousin Lydia could come with her three young children. Both he and Justin were worried that since he was rather isolated from others his age, be would be antisocial when he went to kindergarten in two years.

On July 31, Evan woke up at his usual early hour of six. His dream was already slipping away from his 3-year-old mind, and all he knew was that he had been on a motorcycle like his Daddy's, high, high above the ground. Evan got out of his big boy bed, not realizing that today was a special day, one that marked his birth, both as Evan Jameson and as Harry Potter. When the birthday boy ran down to the kitchen in his cowboy pajamas, he was greeted by his Daddy and his Papa. They, as usual, were up before him and had his breakfast ready. But Evan knew today was something new, because they didn't have his favorite raisiny crunchy cereal out for him. "Doughnut!" he cheered, running to his tall seat. He tried to climb up the tall chair himself, but his Daddy picked him up put him down in his chair. Evan happily grabbed the nearest chocolate covered treat.

His Papa and his Daddy smiled at him. "Happy birthday Evan," his Papa said.

Evan stopped eating for a moment, head tilted to one side much like a little puppy. "Today my bithday?" He bore a look of pure confusion only a three-year-old could pull off.

Justin nodded. "You're three today. And exactly a year ago, you met me and your Daddy."

The boy scrunched his face up. "That was fowevew ago Papa!"

Taylor chuckled as Evan moved past his confusion and began eating again. Justin stood and poured milk into a bright red sippy cup.

Evan munched on happily, oblivious to the fact that in a few hours, the house would be swarming with overwhelming relatives.

"What do you want to do today, hon?" Taylor asked, finished with his doughnuts already.

His son thought about this, swallowing the last bit of his chocolate, and began licking his sticky fingers. "Wanna ride Daddy's cycle!" he crowed, face lit up in mischief.

They both slapped their faces in exasperation. "We should have expected that," the biker murmured. He looked at his partner, silently asking him to forgive him for what he was about to say. Justin rolled his eyes and smiled- just enough for Taylor to know he was already forgiven. "Okay. But we stay in the driveway, we don't go very fast, and you are going to wear a helmet."

No sooner had he said this, then Evan was running in circles around the room, shrieking in joy. The pair just stared at him, confused. The same question was embedded in each of their minds: how had he gotten from his chair, where he was when he made his request, to the living room, in the ten seconds it had taken for him to get his answer?

Evan couldn't wait to get on his Daddy's motorcycle and 'fly'. Although they hadn't even gone above 10 mph, the small child was still babbling about his ride when the guests started arriving at noon. 'Gramma Fi' was the first to arrive, as always. When she introduced her grandson to the woman with her, who looked very similar to the plump, energetic woman, he barely blinked before he was ranting to 'Auntie Aggie' about 'flying'.

He was so caught up with telling his adventure that he didn't realize how many people were around him in the porch until there were far more around him than he could count. Although, since he could only count to ten, and he skipped four and seven, this is hardly a fair assessment. As Taylor was pointing out Evan's new family and introducing them, Evan clutched Justin's leg and hid behind him. His wide emerald eyes gave him a deer-in-headlights look.

When Taylor introduced him to his father, Christopher, the old man crouched down next to Evan and smiled at him. "Hello there, Evan. I'm your new Grandfather." His calm voice was booming to the three-year-old, and he tried to hid further behind his Papa, who put a hand on his head soothingly. His grandfather frowned, and reached out to grab Evan-perhaps for a forced hug or handshake.

Evan squeaked, and abandoned Justin in favor of Taylor, who was further away from the strange man with the white hair and beard.

Taylor knelt next to his son; Justin tried to clear the immediate area around his frightened child.

"Evan, sweetie," Taylor began, holding him at arms length. He wasn't looking at his Daddy, but at the floor. "Look at me. I'm not mad at you or anything. I just want to know why you're running from your Grampa."

He sniffed, teary eyes looking back at concerned blue ones. "He smells funny. And I don't like his beard." The beard in question was, indeed, rather long. It reminded some of Santa Clause's beard, but it clearly held some bad memory for Evan.

Once he had calmed down from the incident, which had angered his grandfather considerably, Evan was coached into joining his cousins, who had gone into the living room to play. Taylor's older cousin, Lydia Jefferson, had been married to her husband Russ for nearly ten years. The eldest of their three children, Jamie, had already run off to show Grandpa Christopher his new rocket, so only Elizabeth (who was six) and Charlie (who was only a year older than Evan) were playing.

Evan, seeing Charlie's clothes, started to giggle quietly. His cousin was adorned with an eye patch, a plastic sword, and a stuffed parrot. He had a ship made of Legos that was sailing through the hardwood floor towards the dark blue rug.

Elizabeth, seated on the rug, let out a shriek as the pirates landed on the 'island'. "Charlie no! My dollies are playing here!" Indeed, she had a slew of Barbies, all in pink princess dresses, laid out on the floor.

Any crisis which may have arisen between the siblings was averted by Evan abruptly joining Charlie on the floor. "Dollies can be pirates too!" His quick hands snagged the closest doll, and he placed her next to the pirate ship.

"Arrg!" the doll said, trying to be as tough as a Barbie doll can be in a pink sparkly dress.

Elizabeth snatched up her toys, pulling the kidnaped one away, and fled the room. The living room was now empty except for the two boys, although the adults could easily see them if they glanced over at them through the glass doors linking one part of the living room to the farmer's porch off the side of the house.

It was half an hour later, when dinner was ready, that Taylor glanced over at the living room (which had contained two boys five minutes ago) and his heart sunk through the floorboards. His face went ashen. Justin looked at him and immediately swivelled to check on Evan.

They were gone. Charlie and Evan had left the building. Well, more accurately, the room. The adults were at every entrance, so they knew that the boys had to be somewhere in the house. Key word being 'somewhere'.

It was nearly twenty minutes into the search when Taylor had an epiphany. He stopped dead in his tracks, and whispered "the basement."

Justin almost didn't catch it, with pretty much the entire family around them, but he caught on immediately. "Of course!" Evan loved playing in the basement. That was where Justin kept the model planes that he had painstakingly built with his father as a child, and Evan loved looking at them on their tall shelves, even though he couldn't touch them. Both Justin and Taylor knew that Evan was down there- but Justin knew he had locked the door that morning. The stairs weren't solid, and were dangerous for small children.

Once the pair reached the door, Taylor reached forward and grasped the knob. His heart sank in dread as it turned easily in his hand. Opening the door, they saw that the light was, in fact, on. Taylor sprinted down the stairs, Justin close behind. They spotted the missing children easily, giggling in a corner.

Evan and Charlie were surrounded by several paint cans. Open paint cans. Evan's arms were streaked with bright blue, and the wall in front of him had several hand prints and drawings of this same color amidst the other artwork. Black and red and brown splattered his clothes. Charlie was in a similar state, but was instead sporting yellow, green, and purple.

Evan looked up at the stairs, having heard the footsteps. "Hi Daddy! Hi Papa! Wanna see ouw picthur?"

Many hours later, after the party had ended and the miscreants had been properly reprimanded, Justin and Taylor fell, exhausted, onto the couch to watch reruns of their favorite show, NCIS. The artist was snuggled into his partner, head resting on his chest. The pediatrician played with Justin's long hair absently as they stared at the television.

"How the hell did he do it?" the brunette said out of the blue.

Taylor stopped his hand and looked down at the top of Justin's head, knowing that he wasn't referring to how Gibbs and Tony had caught the latest criminal, but not exactly knowing what Justin was referring to. "Who?"

"Evan. How did he open the paint? They're low enough for him to get, but we both know how difficult it is to open one." The artist was sulking. Taylor knew this without even having to look at his face. Justin hated having a mystery he couldn't solve.

"I suppose it's just another thing about Evan we'll never really know." The doctor murmured, running his fingers through brown locks.

"Like his obsession with flying?"

"Exactly."


	3. Chapter 3: Progression

_Um... Wow. So, I got on my computer the morning after I submitted chapter two, and WOW. I was so not expecting five reviews within 24 hours. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. And a special thanks to semper paratis, who was the first to review._

_Oh, and the final product is unbeta-ed, since she only went over my rough draft. I apologize for any mistakes. _

_I just realized that anonymous reviews were disabled! Eep. I'm sorry. That's fixed now. _

Chapter Three: Progression

Evan was flying. The wind whipped his face and he screamed in sheer joy. Then he began to plummet straight down, and the sudden rush stole the breath from his lungs. He lurched to a stop, and his father smiled down at him, blue eyes twinkling.

"Did you have fun?" he asked as he unbuckled him from the car. The five-year-old was bouncing in his seat, face flushed from the roller coaster ride which, in reality, was quite small. It was the most extreme that a child his height could ride, but it was still only about ten feet in the air.

As they walked towards the end of the 'station', Evan babbled that he wanted to do it again, and bring Papa with them this time. When they reached the exit, Evan let go of his father's hand and sprinted to his other father, gripping tightly to him. Grinning devilishly, he grabbed his Papa's hand and started dragging him towards the entrance of the roller coaster. "Papa!" Evan whined, noticing his reluctance. "Its fun! Come on Papa!"

Justin paled at the thought of the ride, even though it was a kiddie one. He laughed nervously. "I don't think so, honey. I told you that I don't like heights. And I think its time you get some food and let Daddy rest." The pair had been running around the park for nearly two hours, looking for rides Evan was tall enough to go on.

The trio had come to the amusement park for Evan's birthday present. He was now five, and next month he would be starting kindergarten. Taylor and Justin were worried that he wouldn't get any friends, because as of yet he had only played with his cousin Charlie. Not even Charlie's older siblings were suitable playmates in Evan's mind.

Only a week after he started kindergarten, Evan came home sniffling. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was runny. It seemed that Justin and Taylor were right to worry about this big step in Evan's education, but not for the reason they expected.

Evan had been made fun of because he had two dads.

He was not the one to tell them this, and he was uncharacteristically quiet. He had gone up to his room after handing Justin the note from his teacher, which said she desperately needed to talk to them about their son, at their earliest possible convenience. That very night, the concerned parents, Evan in tow, walked into the building for their first of many parent-teacher conferences.

Taylor had met his partner and son in the parking lot at the school after work, as he had to stay late to take care of some paperwork. As such, he hadn't had a chance to change out of his nice work clothes, and had left his typical white coat in the back of the car. Evan was snuggled into Justin's arms, trying to ignore all gazes and stares.

Mrs. Brown, a short pudgy woman with grey hair, led them into her classroom. "Its wonderful to meet you-" she trailed off, not knowing how to address them.

"Taylor Levey." He shook her outstretched and, and his partner followed suit.

"Justin Benson."

She smiled warmly. "Please, have a seat." Mrs. Brown had a small stack of papers in front of her, and she hesitated visibly, fidgeting. "You see, Mr. Levey and Mr. Benson, your son has been having some difficulties." she paused, gaging their reactions. Both men were frowning, clearly concerned.

"What sorts of difficulties? Is he not playing with the other children?" Justin voiced their top concern.

Mrs. Brown smiled weakly. "If only that was the problem. The older children noticed that he has no mother, and they have started teasing him about it. He decided to fight back, and he punched one of them. Also, Evan is quite smart. It is evident that he is ahead of the other children. Look at these." She handed them two sheets of paper. One was clearly marked 'Evan Jameson', and the other was a name they didn't recognize. It was a simple reading and writing test- just as an attempt to teach them the alphabet.

Evan's paper was pristine. Neat, printed letters were written underneath the large typed ones, and words were written beside the letter- "A for apple, B for bear, C for cookie," and so on.

Evan, looking at it, grinned and started bouncing on Taylor's lap. "That's my test! It was fun."

Justin smiled brightly. "And you remembered what I taught you."

He nodded. "Yeah. E for Evan, V for violin, A for apple, N for never. J for Jameson, A for apple, M for monkey, E for Evan, S for snake, O for orange, and N for never!" he recited clearly and quickly, grinning.

Taylor tried not to laugh at the shocked look on Mrs. Brown's face. Justin had taught Evan how to spell his name out like that to help him remember his alphabet, and apparently it had worked. "What's this other sheet?" Taylor waved it.

Mrs. Brown shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "That's a typical test. Take a look at it." The two men glanced at it, noticing that 'd' and 'b' were switched, and 'm' had an extra leg, but other than that and the fact that it was messy, it was like Evan's.

"I don't get it. If this is the typical test, how is Evan's so shocking, except hat he wrote what it stood for?" Justin spoke, frowning.

"Well," she began, "that test is one of the first grader's tests from the end of last year. The first grade teacher and myself usually work together for teaching the alphabet and how to write. I teach the capital letters, she teaches the lowercase."

Justin and Taylor looked at each other, then down at the five-year-old sitting happily on the floor, playing with his Lego pirate ship that they didn't remember bringing.

"What would you suggest then, Mrs. Brown?" Taylor asked quietly. They were already in uncharted waters raising Evan, and he was worried that they might be sinking if they didn't get help.

The woman smiled in relief. She could tell that he two men were nervous and uncomfortable, but on the other two occasions that she had told a parent their child had an unexpected aptitude, they insisted their child was 'gifted' and therefore must be tutored or moved to a private school immediately. "I think it would be best if Evan went directly to first grade. He might be able to make friends better there, and he won't be learning what he already knows from the two of you."

After a brief meeting with Ms. Kuzinski, Evan's new teacher, they were able to go home, eat dinner, and put Evan to bed. True to their routine, Taylor and Justin sat with him in his room and read him a story, complete with the silly voices and occasional movements.

It was a much happier boy who came home from school the next day. Taylor had the afternoon off, so he was privileged enough to hear, for the first time, Evan's chatter right after school.

It. Was. Madness. Evan didn't stop talking for an hour straight, and he was rattling like a New Yorker. By now, he had lost his British accent, and was rapidly acquiring the New Englander slang. Art was "wicked" cool, dinner was "wicked" good, and Ms. Kuzinski was "wicked" nice. His crisp 'r''s were now slurred, and "pahrk" replaced "park".

It didn't occur to the new parents until a month later to ask if he was still happy in first grade.

Evan shrugged. "Yeah." But the look on his face betrayed his true feelings. Justin and Taylor crouched down next to him on the floor in the living room, where he was playing with his airplanes.

"Are you bored, sweetie?" Justin asked, his forehead crinkling. His son didn't meet his eyes, shrugging his answer.

Taylor sighed, feeling overwhelming guilt for not asking him until now. "Do you have any friends?" Again the noncommital shrug. Taylor met Justin's eyes over Evan's head. He raised an eyebrow, posing a silent question.

Justin nodded slightly. Yes, it was past time to have another chat with Ms. Kuzinski.

TIMEJUMPTIMEJUMPTIMEJUMP

Time passed far too quickly for Taylor and Justin. Somehow, Evan was already seven years old and in the fourth grade. He would be exposed to middle school in only two short years, and when he was 12 he would be entering high school.

Now both men understood why their mothers had cried when they had been going to their first day of middle school. Time was far too short with their baby, and he was far too mature for his age.

Despite the fact that he was only seven, Evan was begging his parents to let him paint over the baby blue the room had been before. By himself. Because he gave them the puppy-dog eyes, and the fact that they couldn't say no to him anyway, the room was currently being primed. It would take a few months to finish his project, but they figured it wouldn't grow stale like the grand plans of many children his age.

One Sunday in mid March, while Justin was helping Evan with the room, Taylor was fixing lunch for his artists. Their favorite meal, actually: tuna melt and hot chocolate. With the mugs balanced precariously on the plates, he ventured up the stairs like a skilled waiter, not spilling a drop of the 3 cups of liquid. He kicked the door with his foot. "Knock knock! Room service!" he called, grinning when he heard a shout from within.

The two paint covered boys sat down on the plastic sheeting with the clean man, eating their food. Evan rushed through his meal, wanting to get back to painting. While his fathers finished their meals, he climbed back on the ladder to the sky-scape, where clouds were forming on the pale blue walls. When he reached the top with his can of light gray paint, he pouted.

"I forgot my brush!" he whined. Evan glared at the object sitting innocently on the plastic sheet. Evan reached out a hand, beckoning. "Come here." Taylor smiled at the child-like behavior before his eyes widened.

Justin, who had just taken a sip of cocoa, choked. Evan grinned, and dipped his brush into the can, ignoring the men and going into the 'zone'. Taylor blinked, not moving.

Justin stared, not even twitching. "Did he just-?"

His partner nodded, mouth agape.

"How?"

"No fucking idea." Justin instinctively smacked the back of his head before resuming the shocked silence.

The sounds of Mozart's Ninth shattered the still air. Justin sprang up to answer the door, leaving Taylor in his state of shock.

A look of confusion passed over his face as he opened the front door to see two similar looking men in crisp business suits holding briefcases. "Can I help you?"

One, the taller man, glanced at his paint splatter jeans and tattered shirt, crinkling his nose. "Good afternoon. I am Detective Russell Smith, and this is Detective Patrick Johnson. We're here to talk to Mr. Justin Benson and Mr. Taylor Levey about a disturbance we detected a few moments ago."

Justin scowled and moved to shut the door. "There was no disturbance, Detectives. If one had happened a few moments ago, I doubt that you would actually know about it.

The shorter man, Detective Johnson, stopped the door with one foot. "We were talking about a magical disturbance. May I assume that you are Justin Benson?"

His jaw clenched. "Yes you may. There is no such thing as magic." He pointedly ignored the fact that Evan had just made a paintbrush float to him.

"Our files do not indicate that you have any children, . Therefore, our only conclusion is that either yourself or Mr. Levey performed the wandless levitation spell at precisely 12:23 today." Detective Smith smirked, thinking he had found the way to irritate this man into telling the truth. "Despite the fact that neither you nor Mr. Levey have any record of attending a magical academy, it is possible that-"

Justin was smiling. "Excuse me, Detective. But your sources are wrong. My partner and I adopted a son several years ago, although I'm not sure what a child has to do with anything. I don't know magic, and Taylor would have informed me if he had any magical talent or whatever." He crossed his arms, watching the puzzled looks come over the men's faces.

A hand came to rest on Justin's shoulder, squeezing gently. He looked up and grinned at the taller man.

"Is there a problem, Justin? Evan's wondering where you went. He wants help with the motorcycle." Taylor glanced at the two strangers, who appeared to be surprised. Judging by the relief that was in Justin's eyes when he had looked at him, they were up to no good. "Unless you men hae some reason to be here other than to disturb us, I suggest you leave." The door was almost shut before the detectives reacted.

"Mr. Levey, do you believe in magic?" Johnson asked.

He opened the door slightly. "Not really, no. Of course, if presented with enough evidence, I'd be willing to consider the possibility."

The detective smiled. "I think that we got off on the wrong foot. May we come in to talk with you more comfortably?"

Once inside and seated on the couch, the three men were introduced; Justin had retreated upstairs to watch over Evan, and to hand the reins over to his more diplomatic partner.

"Mr. Levey, we're from the FBMI, the Federal Bureau of Magical Investigations. Specifically, we work in the Muggle Affairs Department. Usually we deal with situations where a muggle, that would be a non-magic user, is exposed to magic. Initially we thought that either you or Mr. Benson was a wizard, and had not registered with the Federal Magic Database, because we have no record of a child in this household." Detective Johnson paused to take a sip of water.

Taylor took this pause to interrupt. "Magic? There is a secret magical society within this country?" He frowned, realizing what the man had said last. "Why does learning about Evan change anything?" His fist was clenched, palms sweat. What if they wanted to take him away?

Detective Smith grinned. "He's most likely a wizard."

Seeing Taylor's face pale, Johnson quickly interjected. "What Russell means is that children with magic often have bouts of 'accidental' magic. When a child wants something, or is angry, then something happens. Sometimes nothing happends until the child is in danger. The good new is that once a child has performed a detectable amount of magic, we test them for their magic level."

Taylor wrinkled his forehead. "You guys can detect magic?" he somehow doubted this.

"Not exactly."

Johnson rolled his eyes. "We can to a certain extent. Anything over a certain power level triggers a location search. If the location isn't one with a register magic user, we investigate. In this case, our records only showed you and Mr. Benson living here, and we didn't think that it was going to be an accidental magic case." He was leaning forward on the couch, relaxed but focused.

"And you think that Evan has magic?" Justin interjected from the edge of the room. They all turned to look at him as he came to sit on the arm of Taylor's chair. "He's painting the rest of the clouds now." he told his partner.

Johnson nodded. "Yes. Has anything strange ever happened around him? Did you see anything this afternoon, for example?"

The New Englanders looked at each other, having another one of their silent conversations. "He made a paintbrush fly to his hand." Justin reluctantly said.

"When he was three, he opened paint cans by himself."

Justin coughed slightly. "When he fell off Ardeth, he bounced."

Taylor's eyes widened, and his partner avoided his accusing gaze. "You never told me he fell off!"

"He was fine." he defended. "Not even a scratch."

The doctor continued his mock glare. "We'll talk about this later."

It took quite a bit of will power for the detectives to not laugh at this exchange. It was clear, however, that they had been right about their second conclusion. Evan was, in fact, a wizard. There was only one issue with this. "How old was he when this happened?"

"Four."

The detectives had a silent conversation of their own. "That's an early age." Smith told them.

Justin frowned. "Is that a bad thing?"

Johnson was quick to reassure him. "No, absolutely not. It's good. Great, even. Usually kids don't have bouts of accidental magic until they're 8 or 9, especially not ones that are so drastic. And usually, it can't be detected by our sensors until they're 9 or 10."

Taylor studied their carefully blank faces. "That's a big leap. This is rare, isn't it?"

"Simple answer?"

"Yes." They responded in unison, which was slightly creepy.

"Very rare." He reached into his briefcase. "Here in America, we like to take good care of our children's education." A pamphlet emerged.

"What do we do?"

EVANSAWIZARDOMGEVANSAWIZARDOMG

After a few hours of intense discussion and debate, Taylor had narrowed things down to only two options. Evan could apply to Salem Wizarding Academy, the closest magical school as well as one of the best in the country, or he could continue with his normal schooling and get a tutor. The final decision, of course, would be up to Evan. A healer would perform a test sometime soon to determine when this would start.

Things were a bit tense when Evan came down to Justin's summons. He was covered in a multitude of colors. Sky blue was caked into his hair, and a smudge of dark green was on his left cheek. Being the perceptive child that he is, he immediately stopped smiling. "What's wrong, Daddy?" Getting only a forced smile from Taylor, his eyes flew to Justin. "Papa?" he glared at the two strangers.

"I'm Russell Smith, a detective." the man said in a soothing voice, standing up to tower over the boy. "Do you know what a detective is?"

Evan gave him a blank stare. "Detective: noun. A person, especially a police officer whose occupation is to investigate crimes. Shouldn't you already know this?"

Smith scowled. "There's no need to be rude, young man."

"Hi Evan. I'm Patrick." He knelt down next to the boy. "Do you believe in magic?"

"No." The answer shocked the two men. They had thought all children believed in magic.

"Why not?"

"Because. Magic breaks laws of physics. If you were able to prove to me that magic isn't limitless, and certain unbreakable laws wee defined by the nature of magic, I would consider its reality. Limitless magic isimprobable. Such energy being exerted must follow wome physical laws and boundaries, like all kinds of energy." He ruined this amazingly philosophical moment by continuing. "Papa, I want chocolate."

Justin cracked a grin. "Later, sweetie. We'll be having dinner in an hour."

"Yay!" He turned back to the men, curious. "Why are you asking about magic?"

"Because, Evan," Smith began harshly, still put off about Evan's comment. "Magic is real and you have it."

The small child raised an eyebrow seriously. Too seriously. It made Smith's eye twitch. This was a creepy kid. "I suppose that explains things. Why does it matter, though? And how do you know?"

Once again, Johnson took over the explanation. Amazingly, he didn't "dumb down" the story at all, and Evan still understood him perfectly.

The detectives left for the night, saying that they would return next week to make an appointment with a specialist to test Evan's magic level, and hopefully at that point the family would have made a decision as to what to do.

IMPORTANT NOTICE CONCERNING UPDATING!!!!!

Due to the amount of stress due to school and applying for colleges, I have been really bad about getting this chapter posted. Its been finished for a while now, I just hadn't gotten around to typing it. Sorry! It didn't help that, as a New Hampshirite, I didn't have electricity all weekend. Ice storms suck. As a Christmas treat, though, I will have chapter four completed by Christmas Day. Handwritten, it is currently 11 pages. And its not quite done yet. So be ready for a super long chapter. Happy holidays, and please review!


	4. Chapter 4: The Past Catches Up

_Thank you, all my loyal readers!_

_HappeeGoLuckee- no he won't. Don't worry about that. You're welcome, I enjoy writing it. _

_SeulWolf- that realization doesn't happen for a while. Not until at least chapter 5. Thank you! _

_Isabelle Eir- hehe that's one of my favorite parts too. I'm personally hoping for UNE, but Hopkins is on my list. _

_daughterofpenthesiliea- you're making me blush. Thank you._

_And thanks to anyone else who reviewed. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas. Enjoy! _

_*****Now reformatted to be better, thanks to Draeconin noticing that the site didn't like my columns._

Chapter Four: The Past Catches Up

Dr. Helena Pomkowski read over the sheet that had popped up after casting her spell. The 'Omnius Imperius Revelus' incantation was designed to conjure a parchment detailing the statistics of the person on whom it was cast.

'Legal Name: Evan Levey-Benson

Age: 7 years, 8 months, 3 days, 3 hours, 32 seconds

Height:

Weight:

Magic Level: 3

Score: 98

Recommended Entrance Time: 3 weeks ago'

She frowned. "The spell must have malfunctioned." she murmured to herself. She flicked her wand again. Her frown deepened when the results came out exactly the same, except for the age.

Evan stared at her from his chair. His parents stood on either side of him. His eyes bored into hers. His expression was blank, and his emerald eyes were disconcerting. "Its not what you expected, is it?"

The healer had to hide her flinch at the sudden statement from her patient. "Er...no, not exactly."

"Is it higher or lower than what you expected?" Taylor asked, almost visibly shifting from concerned parent to concerned doctor and parent.

"Much higher." she assured him.

Justin looked at Taylor. "What does that mean?"

Dr. Pomkowski summoned two chairs with flick, motioning for the couple to sit. "Has anyone explained the levels and scores to you?" At their nods, she continued. "Well, Evan is a level 3 wizard. Now, a score for this level usually occurs when children are 10. This has also been recorded in children as young as Evan. However, they don't reach a higher score until they are ten. Evan has a very high score. He is very nearly a level 4 wizard, which has not been recorded in a child as young as Evan for at least a century."

Evan sat on the chair, nervously swinging his legs as they dangled above the floor. His arms were crossed against his chest, chin tucked in.

Justin grinned. "So Evan's going to be powerful?"

The doctor returned his smile. "Your son already is powerful, Mr. Benson."

"Levey- Benson." he corrected with an absent smile. He and Taylor had gotten a civil union several months ago, and were still trying to get people to remember the hyphened part.

Taylor smiled at his partner before returning his attention to the matter at hand. "What happens now?"

She smiled, glad that for once she had parents who were actually going to listen to her suggestions. "Well, I recommend that he go to Salem Wizarding Academy. It's the closest magical school around here, and its one of the best in the country. My son goes there, and my daughter goes to their partner school, Salem Academy for Witchcraft." she shrugged at their tentative faces. "Or you can get a tutor, if you feel he isn't ready to go to school yet."

Evan piped up. "I don't want to go to school. The kids will make fun of me."

"Because you're young?" the doctor said, voice soft and cooing. "Its okay. The kids there are used to younger students. Its an advanced school." She had a saturated, permeating sweetness in her voice that was overbearing.

Evan blinked at her, frowning. An image had just flicked through his mind of a woman with a strict gray bun and funny looking glasses, beaming at him. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the strange picture. "That's not what they tease me for, Doctor."

Justin looked down sharply. "The kids at school still tease you?"

Evan nodded, finding the floor fascinating in all of its plain white glory.

"What about?"

He shrugged. "Stuff."

"Like?"

He mumbled something.

"What was that, sweetie?" Taylor crouched down next to him.

"They laugh because I don't have a mom. I tried to tell them that I did have a mom, but she gave me up and now I have two dads, which is way better than one, but they wouldn't listen." he rushed in one breath.

Dr. Pomkowski had to put in her word, even though it was clearly a family discussion. "Homosexuality is common in the magical world. There have been experiments done to try to allow such a couple to have a child of their own, rather than adopting or using a surrogate."

Evan looked at her, puzzled, as his parents looked at her blankly. "So other kids at school might have two dads too?"

She smiled. "Oh yes. Or two moms." She stood, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Here's the readout for your test levels. You might need to show that to a principle or tutor to convince them that Evan does need training at his age." The doctor also gave them a few pamphlets on the various schools in the New England area, to help them make the best decision they could, and she included a booklet entitled So Your Child Is a Witch Or Wizard: How to Cope, Adjust, and Acquaint Yourself.

The next day, Taylor made an appointment to talk with the principle of Salem Wizarding Academy. After looking through the pamphlets, it was clear that SWA was the best choice; it was the closest to home, and seemed to have the most diverse class range. A week later, at precisely 8:57 a.m. on Tuesday morning, Justin, Taylor, and Evan stood in front of a large brick school building. It was surrounded by trees on all sides, and the two muggles had to be given special ID badges to allow them to get past the wards.

Their appointment with the principle was at 9, but it took them a few tries to find the right room. The door, however, made two things very clear. One: the principle's name was Adam Fitzgerald, and he had a Ph. D. Two: this was a magical school. The letters spelling out the words were constantly shifting colors and fonts, from bold pink Times New Roman to neon green Webdings.

Taylor and Justin looked at each other. Once they knocked on that door, they would be immersed in the world of wizardry, with no way out. But Evan was worth it. The artist tapped his fist against the door. Almost immediately it opened, a man in rather casual clothes standing there. He was about 5'10", probably in his mid forties. His full head of brown hair made him look young, and he didn't seem like the principle of a prestigious school in his jeans, white dress shirt, and red zippered vest.

He grinned at the three people standing in his doorway. "You must be Taylor, Justin, and Evan. Come on in." He stepped back to allow them entry, and went to sit at his desk. His office looked relatively normal, if you ignored the coffee making itself, the random spinning objects on the desk, and the odd-looking dark colored bird in the corner.

Evan's eyes widened at the sigh. "Is that a Shadow Phoenix? Its beautiful! What's its name?" he babbled as his parents sat down.

"Yes. She is. Arizona." Taylor snorted.

Evan stared at the principle. "Really?"

"Yes really. I named her Arizona." Mr. Fitzgerald said.

"Can I take a picture of her? I want to paint her on my wall." the seven-year-old blurted.

"Evan, what do you say?" Justin reprimanded softly.

He heaved a sigh. "Can I please take a picture of her so I can paint her on my wall?"

"Of course." He grinned at the boy's politeness.

Once the impromptu photo shoot was done, which Arizona preened for, they were able to get down to business. "On the phone you said that you wished to enroll Evan as a first year student?" At their nods, he continued. "I'm guessing that since Evan is only seven, you had him tested."

"Yes, by a Dr. Pomkowski. We have a copy of the results right here." Taylor pulled out the envelope that they had kept it in.

The principle glanced over the sheet, eyes widening ever so slightly. "Well, its clear that Evan does need to start his magical schooling. He'll need to take a placement test before we can enroll him, and I think it would be better if he didn't start until next term. After all, we are well into the second semester, and it would be difficult to catch up and to fit in at this stage."

The men both nodded again. "We understand."

Justin continued. "What sort of placement test? I though that he would be starting at the beginning?"

Mr. Fitzgerald winced, and smacked his forehead. "Sorry. I forgot to tell you that we teach the essential muggle courses as well, in case the student doesn't want to live solely in the magical world. It seems stupid to us, that in many other schools around the world, especially in the UK, they just stop at the equivalent of fifth grade. Our placement test is only math, science, and English. We have a very different schooling system here in America than in other more traditional countries. We have advanced tracks for everything, so if Evan is completely bored and beyond the level of everyone else in, say, Basic Transfiguration, he can move up a level." A flick of his wrist sent a packet of paper to Taylor, and a second to Justin. "That's the information you'll need to decide with Evan what classes he wants to take, as well as all of our school policies," he paused. "Did you have any questions, or should I go get Evan set up for his placement test before we talk more?"

Justin grinned. "I think Evan's getting antsy. Maybe you should do the test first."

Evan, who had been obliviously playing with Silly Putty (the color changing type), looked up, eyes gleaming. "What sort of test?"

Once Evan was set up in an empty classroom and a teacher was watching him, the Levey-Bensons and Mr. Fitzgerald walked back to his office.

"How expensive is this place?" Taylor blurted nervously. "We want Evan to have a good education, but-"

"You have to be practical?" the principle cut in. "I understand. Tuition is actually fairly reasonable, because there's a contract involved. In the contract, it states that you have to commit to a minimum of two years here. And you supply a lot of the materials needed for classes." He paused, flicking his wrist again to bring a log book to him. "Our yearly tuition estimated for the next year is going to be $1000. Comparably, a tutor would be more than double that. The average first year student spent around $200 for their supplies this year. Of course, a lot of students are on different tracks, and some call for more items than others."

They continued talking about the financial aspect of Evan's schooling, and the principle acquainted the muggles with a few of the magical terms and items. A knock on the door interrupted the principle's explanation of the magical version of the SATs. "Come in." he called, mildly confused.

The teacher who had been watching Evan walked in, a frown firmly set on her face. Evan stood guiltily beside her. "He claims he's done, Adam!"

"Thank you Stacey." he dismissed her, taking the large packet from her hands. She left in a huff, clearly annoyed that the principle didn't question the matter further. Mr. Fitzgerald took the answer sheet, which was on top, and tapped it 3 times with his want, muttering 'revelus cunctus erratus." He frowned when 4 red dots appeared on the sheet. He pulled a plastic plate out of a drawer. It was recognizably one of the template sheets used to correct answer sheets quickly. He lined up the two sheets, and frowned again.

"Did I do really badly?" Evan asked quietly from the safety of Justin's lap.

"On the contrary, Evan. You did fantastic. Was this easy for you?"

He shrugged innocently. "Sorta. I mean, a lot of it was logic, especially the math. Some of the answers were obviously wrong, so I was able to narrow down a lot of questions." He said calmly. "When do I get to start learning magic?" A big grin was plastered on his face.

Laughing, Mr. Fitzgerald told him that he wouldn't be able to start school until September 2, nearly 6 months away. At this, he pouted. "Hey, its okay Evan. Usually kids don't start magic school until they're 11. You're lucky that you're starting so soon."

Later that evening, when the three were going over Evan's options for classes, Taylor and Justin felt they were stepping into a fantasy book. The classes were so divers and some were, well, just weird.

"Necromancy: the art of conversing with the dead." Taylor began.

Evan's eyes lit up. "What's that about?"

Taylor continued reading. "Necromancy, unlike other forms of magic, can only be performed by certain individuals. If you sign up for this class, you will be tested for any skill before the term begins. If you do have an affinity for death, you will be expected to participate in the class. Entry level Necromancy includes certain rituals to speak with the dead, and you will advance to the next level ONLY after passing key exams."

Taking the pen from his father, Evan put a mark next to the class. "It sounds cool!" he defended when his parents raised eyebrows at him simultaneously.

Justin shrugged in consent. How much trouble could he really get into, anyway? He pulled the course sheet out of Taylor's hand. "What's next on the list?" he frowned. "Ani- ani- mag-us? Anymaygus?" he shook his head. "The transformation of a witch or wizard into an animal by will. This course could span anywhere from a few months to the entirety of your schooling, depending on how easily you learn your form." Without having to ask, he made a mark next to the class.

Evan was grinning. He was thrilled by all of the courses he could choose from. In the end, he chose seven classes: necromancy, animagus transformations, arithmancy, wandless magic, defensive magic, transfiguration, and potions. He also wanted to take band and martial arts, and he would (he assumed) be taking the three basic 'muggle' courses- math, science, and English. Of course, with such a great number of desired courses, Justin and Taylor were unsure how their son was going to be able to handle them all, let alone fit them into his schedule. The course list hadn't come with a limit of courses that he could take, nor instructions to put them in any desired order.

The summer dragged on and on for the almost 8-year-old. He had taken three more tests since his meeting with Mr. Fitzgerald: one for English, one for math, and one for science. They were more specific than the one he had first taken, and would therefore be able to more accurately place him.

But that wasn't why the summer was dragging. The school would be mailing his schedule on a specific day, and Evan was anxious to find out what classes he had gotten into, even though he knew he would be in necromancy. Justin was still disturbed by the memory of that meeting.

FLASHBACK

Evan was sitting cross-legged on the smooth stone floor, facing a man clad entirely in bright neon green. The man had short, shiny (or maybe greasy) brown hair, and deathly pale skin. The two were staring intently at each other. Justin was standing in the corner, watching curiously.

Suddenly, the young boy's eyes rolled back into his head. His body went slack, but he remained sitting somewhat upright.

"Evan!" Justin called, moving to step inside the complex runes that created a chalk pentagon on the floor.

"No." He stopped, the voice commanding his attention. "He's fine. His soul is just separated from his body."

Justin's eyes bugged out. "WHAT? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SON?!" he fumed.

"Relax, will you? As long as the runes aren't disturbed, he'll be fine. Its temporary."

Fists clenched and knuckles white, Justin tried not to let his artist's temper through. "Why is my son's soul separated from his body?"

The other man shrugged. "Because he has a skill with death. The ritual I'm using only works if the subject has an ability for the death magics."

END FLASHBACK

Evan's shriek brought Justin out of his thoughts. His son was waving a sheet of paper around- his schedule. Snagging it, the 'adult' read the list.

'1. Necromancy- Level 1

2. Arithmancy- Level 1

3. Wandless Magic- Level 1

4. Defensive Magic- Level 1

5. Transfiguration- Level 1

6. Potions- Level 1

7. Band ++

8. English- Level 3

9. Math- Level 2

10. Science- Level 2

Animagus Transformation *

Martial Arts **

* This will take the place of a free period when the time slot is available in the schedule.

**Class will take place after school, from 3:15 p.m. to 4:15 p.m. every Monday and Wednesday.

++ Instruments will be chosen after the first week of classes, after being given a description of each option.

School Day: 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.

Periods:

8:00 - 9:00

9:05- 10:05

10:10- 11:10

11:15- 12:15

LUNCH

1:00- 2:00

2:05- 3:05

Monday 

1

2

3

4

5

6

Tuesday

7

8

9

10

1

2

Wednesday

3

4

5

6

7

8

Thursday

9

10

1

2

3

4

Friday

5

6

7

8

9

10

General Supplies:

Notebooks, writing utensils (blue or black pens only, please.)

1 wand, wand sheath (arm or leg)

A bag of some sort is recommended.

Broomsticks are allowed to be used during free periods, but there are many available at the school. A class will be held on a weekend or after school later on in the year.

The supply list for individual classes will be mailed within the next week.'

"Wow. I guess they encourage a large course load." Taylor looked over Justin's shoulder, as amazed as his partner was.

"I guess so. A 10 class rotation seems a bit extreme though." Justin replied, leaning back to allow Taylor to wrap his arms around him.

Evan was still running in circles around the kitchen, cheering loudly. "I'm going to school! I'm going to school!"

Taylor intercepted the blur and swung the giggling boy onto his shoulders. "We have to buy your supplies first, buddy."

His son frowned down at him. "How? I don't think Walmart has wands, Daddy."

Justin held up the letter. "One of the teachers is going to show us around when we get the rest of the supply list. He's apparently the guy in charge of helping 'muggleborns' adjust to the magical world." His hands formed air quotes for the weird word.

Evan calmed down, frowning. "Is it really such a big adjustment? I mean, its magic! Its cool!"

Justin and Taylor laughed. "A lot of things are different. I think." the former said oh so decisively.

"We'll find out next Wednesday." Taylor finalized. Evan pouted. As intelligent as he was, he was also impatient.

_Whew. That was long. It was going to be about 3 pages longer, but then I realized that if I didn't end it here, the chapter would be about 10 pages longer, since the next section details the shopping trip. And, I wouldn't have been able to finish it before the end of today. So, I decided that I'm just going to put that in the next chapter. Oh, and here's an explanation of the magic levels. Oh, and the average life span of a magical person is going to be about 150 years for the sake of this story. _

_1. In adults, a level 1 is considered a non-magical witch / wizard- a.k.a. squib. They can't perform any magic beyond a basic spell under extreme duress. In childhood development, usually occurs between birth and the age of 1. _

_2. In the average witch/ wizard, this can occur between the ages of 1 and 10. For adults, they are able to perform a few basic spells while not under duress. _

_3. Occurs after the age of 10. A relatively low score for an adult, but most basic spells can be performed. _

_4. Score of an average student in their first 3 years of study. In adults, this is a lower end mid-level witch/ wizard. _

_5. This level is usually of a student between the 3__rd__ and 6__th__ years of schooling. Adults: mid-level. _

_6. Student- finishing the normal schooling (age 17-19). Adult- higher end mid-level witch/ wizard. _

_7. Level only achieved by someone who has spent time beyond normal schooling. (Usually 20-30 years old.) Lower end high level witch/ wizard. _

_8. High level witch/ wizard- has mastered one subject. 30- 50 years old. _

_9. Extremely high level witch/ wizard- has a mastery of multiple fields. 50- 70 years old. _

_10. Extraordinarily powerful witch/ wizard. Has never been recorded in someone under 100 years. _

_11. A level this high has never been recorded, but one witch in the 18__th__ century was very close to achieving it before she died at the age of 163. _

_Each level has a score ranging from 1 to 100. A level 3, score 55 is less powerful than a level 3, score 99. _


	5. Chapter 5: A Day of Shopping

_This is a very lengthy AN section for one reason: a reviewer sort of pissed me off, and I wanted to clarify something that he or she was mistaken with. _

_Worldmaker reviewed the first chapter as such: _

_The phrase "Don't like it, don't read it" in the summary of a story is, basically, the writer saying "I don't want reviews... I want my ass kissed." This sort of statement is used by a writer who has no confidence, or is so arrogant that he believes he shouldn't be criticized. Either that, or he's doing something messed up, like writing a Slash story. _

_I responded with this: _

_For your information, all my confidence in my writing has been built up by reviewers. I have gotten flamers before, and they have helped improve my writing. I used 'don't like it, don't read it' in reference to the fact that it is a slash pairing, meaning that if you don't like slash stories, don't read this one. It was not meant as a sign of arrogance in terms of reviewing. What I don't understand is your last comment. "Either that, or he's doing something messed up, like writing a Slash story." Why yes, I am writing a slash story. I'm so glad that you can read my warning in my summary stating that. However, it is not 'messed up' as you put it. What is messed up is that you somehow think that I am searching for ass kissing. While i don't particularly like getting reviews saying "wow you suck", no writer does, i do appreciate criticism. _

_I have very little confidence in my own writing, due to the fact that I am an insecure person. I have pretty much no confidence in anything I do. I don't like meaningless ass kissing. I want people to tell me that they like it because of X, or they don't like it because of Y. I don't want to hear people saying that they didn't like my story because of the pairing, or because it was slash. I state the pairing and slash warning (if there is one) in the summary, so that people who don't like that sort of thing don't spam my review box saying things like "Kel/Neal is so stupid!" (I actually did get that review once for my other story. I laughed.) I hope you have taken the time to read this response to your statement, because it took an extreme amount of my willpower to not send you a string of curse words amounting to the fact that I did not say "don't like, don't read" in reference to my writing, but in reference to the fact that it was a slash story. I also would hope that next time you review a story, actually read more than the first chapter before critiquing it, especially since I am currently in the process of writing chapter five. _

_Oh, and on a side note, I am a woman, not a man. _

_They have yet to respond. _

_On another note:_

_Isabelle Eir- You're welcome. They do know about Harry Potter, but they don't worship him as much as they do in the UK. Thanks!_

Chapter Five: A Day of Shopping

At precisely 9 a.m. the next Monday, the doorbell rang out the tune of Mozart's Ninth. Evan immediately put down The Two Towers, bookmark in place, as Justin went to get the door. The man who entered the house was, well, not what they were expecting. Not that they knew what to expect in the first place. Jeff Henderson was 6'2", thin, and tan. His crew cut hair was jet black and his eyes were hazel brown. His clean-shaven face was smiling, and his blue jeans and t-shirt were absolutely normal.

"Hi there. Nice to meet you," he greeted. Looking down, Jeff held out his hand. "You must be Evan. I'm Jeff."

The 8-year-old looked from the hand, to Jeff's face. His own hands remained firmly crossed against his chest. The corners of his mouth turned down slightly.

"Evan," Taylor warned, not having to add the 'be polite' that was on the tip of his tongue.

He ignored his dad and continued staring at Jeff, who was staring back, trying not to squirm under the intense gaze of the adolescent. Suddenly, Evan's expression changed into what could only be described as a look of pure deviousness. "You're not you."

Justin frowned at Evan. "Sweetie, what are you talking about?" Jeff was fidgeting, which only made the two parents more suspicious.

"His face is flickering, especially the eyes and hair."

Jeff went pink as the two men stared at him. "Sorry. I'm a metamorphagus. I can change my appearance at will. Mrs. Richards met you guys when Evan was taking his placement test, and she warned me that you were muggles, and told me to be conservative." His eyes changed to a bright blue and his hair took a dramatic lengthening, falling to his shoulders, and became a neon blue.

Taylor's eyebrows raised and Justin grinned. Evan smirked. "Daddy and Papa aren't conservative. Papa is an artist, after all." His parents tinged pink at this statement, especially the artist. Jeff looked relieved at the playing field being leveled.

"Well, now that there's been some wet feet, shall we head off to the Southwest End?" the wizard asked happily.

The young boy frowned again. "Wet feet?"

Jeff grinned. "Well, some ice was broken, so we got our feet wet."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's kinda weird."

The man shrugged. "So am I."

Evan smiled, deciding he liked this guy. "Where are we going first?"

"First? We have to go to Boston. We'll be taking a little something called a Port-Train, or the PT for short. Then its off to Gringotts so you know where it is." He turned to the adults. "If you want to, you can open an account there connected to a debit card for emergencies, and it will work at every wizarding establishment in the world, as well as every muggle one that takes Visa." Jeff explained, leading them to his car that sat in the driveway.

Evan snorted when he saw the SUV. "You like blue, don't you?" he asked sarcastically.

"However did you guess?" Jeff responded in kind.

Piling into the car, the three quickly realized that the inside had been not only expanded to fit 12 more people than it should have been able to, but was also fitted with much more comfortable seats.

Evan, directly behind the driver's seat, was puzzled. "How does this work? The outside isn't an illusion- its solid. But there's so much more room on the inside. Doesn't that become really complicated?"

Jeff looked in the rear-view mirror, inspecting the far to intelligent boy as he drove. "Well, the spell is very complex. That's why only advanced students know the spell. What happens is that the molecules are layered on top of each other-" The lecture, in highly confusing terms and magical theories, lasted through the 30 minute trip to the nearest PT station. The four stepped onto the platform, which looked much like a subway, except for a few blaring differences. The boarding areas, which they counted 5 of, were only big enough for one subway car. No tunnels, no tracks. Nothing else. A loud beeping alarm drew the three 'tourists' attention to a boarding dock which was empty.

"The 9:42 car to Berlin, New Hampshire will be arriving in thirty seconds. Please stand behind the red line out of the danger zone." There was a scramble as people looked down at their feet to ensure their safety.

Jeff stopped the Levey- Bensons. "You'll want to see this. And I think we're taking this car to Boston." he explained.

"Twenty seconds until the 9:42 car from York, Maine arrives."

Evan was silently counting in his head, eager to see what would happen. As all the watches and clocks in the time zone turned to 9:42, wind blasted out from the empty dock, and a loud bang was heard, like a car backfiring. And then the dock wasn't so empty. A perfectly normal subway car was parked next to the curb.

"The 9:42 car from York to Berlin has arrived. Please exit through the doors in an orderly fashion. Next stop will be at 9:53 in Boston, Massachusetts. Have a nice day." They all watched as people rushed off the car, eager to be on their separate ways. None of the three realized how many people were exiting, nor did they notice that it was a significantly larger number than what normal subway cars carry.

Evan was the first to break out of his shock, as he noticed that people were now getting in the car. "Come on! We have to find a good seat!" He half-dragged a chuckling Jeff towards the car, leaving Justin and Taylor to follow. The eight year old had to be pushed to continue moving into the car once he reached the doorway. The inside of the car didn't have plastic seats, or germ-coated railings and hand straps. Armchairs lined the walls, which stretched three times the length of the outside, and a long couch-like bench sat in the exact middle. It looked more like a hotel lounge than a subway car. Justin and Taylor were just as awestruck as Evan, even more so perhaps, since Evan was an easily adapting child. Their guide led them to a section of empty chairs near the doors, smirking slightly at the shock firmly set in their faces. Taylor sat next to his partner, with Evan on his other side. Jeff sat on the unoccupied side of Justin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evan flinch away from the stranger who sat next to him, attempting to curve into the side of his father. The blue-haired man brushed it off as a childish fear of strangers, and the fact that he was in a completely new environment.

"The 9:53 car to Boston will depart in one minute. Please sit down." the monotone female speaker droned.

Evan jerked up. "Jeff?"

He leaned forward to see the kid's face. "Yeah?"

"How does it work?"

Jeff hid his smile at Evan reemerging from his shell. "Well, it's a combination of apparation and a port-key. Apparating is basically teleporting. But this is better than both of 'em. It was invented by Max Machale about 30 years ago, because he wanted to find a way to send things places without having people along for the ride. Of course, his first attempt sent his entire house, without him inside, to the field that he had wanted to send his pitchfork. The exact properties of it are a little complicated for me, but I know he wrote a book about it, so you can read that if you want to."

"The 9:53 car will be leaving in 30 seconds. If you are outside the car, please step outside of the Danger Zone. If you are in the car, please sit immediately. The stabilization field will not be effective for standing passengers, and injury may occur." There was silence. Evan was eagerly looking around, clutching his father's hand. "The 9:53 car to Boston will depart now." Evan heard a pop, and suddenly his ears were ringing, his vision went swirly, and he felt like he was being squeezed through a tube. Just as suddenly, the feeling was gone. Disappointed, he looked as the subway car doors opened to show-

"Wow," he breathed. There was a completely different station out there. "Are we in Boston now?"

The adults grinned. "Yes we are," Jeff answered. "Now we just have to get to the Southwest End, the Wizarding District of Boston," he continued proudly. He led them to the stairway which would take them out onto the street, disguised on the other side by a door labeled "Danger: Personnel with PT clearance only." Justin, Taylor, and Evan were surprised to see an alleyway beyond the door, as this particular alley had two other doors, and no obvious exit to the street: only a dead-end. "There's added security here, since its such a big city." He pointed to the door that was opposite to the dead-end. "That's just an illusion. On the other side is muggle Boston. It comes out by a coffee shop in the shopping center in North End. These other doors are to make sure that even if someone does get through that first door, they can't get into magical places. Less use of the Memory- Erasing Charm," he added casually.

Much to everyone's surprise, Jeff walked to the section of empty wall at the very back. He rapped sharply on the brickwork exactly 7 times. If they looked closely, they could see that it was a brick with a hawk etched into it. "North-north-west," the wizard enunciated. With a pop, the bricks vanished, turning into a door. Jeff stuck his wand into the small hole in the knob. "I know a hawk from a handsaw." The door swung open once he removed his wand, revealing another alleyway. This one, however, opened up to a bustling street.

Evan was jumping up and down in excitement. "Where do we go first? I want to see the bookstore! What about my wand?" Before he could ask any more questions in his seamless babble, Taylor put one hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down. We'll get to everything. Where's your list?"

Evan stopped, digging through his pockets. He frowned. "I can't find it!" Utter dismay washed across his face.

Justin grinned, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his own pocket. "I guess its good that I brought it."

Evan giggled at the trick. "Oh good! Where do we go first? Can we go get the books now?" he pleaded.

Jeff laughed. "A bit of a reader, are you?"

Taylor snorted. "He's in the middle of The Two Towers right now, and once he's done with The Return of the King, he wants to start reading Shakespeare." He paused, and looked at Jeff. "What sort of currency do wizards use?"

Jeff shrugged. "Well, shortly after America became, well, America, the magical community that had come over with the rest of the Pilgrims decided that they were going to integrate themselves as much as possible with the locals, and this meant the monetary system as well. So we use the American dollar, and credit cards, and we've integrated and adapted a lot of the technology into our every day life. In Europe though, they use coins of bronze, silver, and gold." Realizing he was about to go into a tangent, he stopped himself. "All of the stores here take major credit cards. And most wizarding stores are like that in the States at least."

"So we don't have to go to the bank first." Evan stated hopefully. Taylor grabbed one of his son's hands, and Justin held the other, swinging Evan between them as he laughed.

"Exactly." His papa responded.

As they walked down the road following Jeff, they marveled in the normalcy of the stores. Sure, the displays were rather eccentric, with the moving lights and pictures, and they were advertising some interesting things (20 pickled newts tails for only $10!), but the stores looked as if they would fit right in on the North End.

Jeff was wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. When he had offered to become the next Muggleborn Integration Advisor, he knew that he would be showing students around frequently. He had never expected to meet a child as _interesting_ as Evan Levey-Benson. He was breaking several conventions all at once: his parents were of the same sex, he was adopted, he read at what seemed to be a high school level, he could sense magic, and rumor had it that he tested as almost a Level 4. As an eight-year-old. The kid was reading Tolkein, for crying out loud! He shook his head. "Here's the bookstore!" He smiled at the sudden grin that spread over the boy's face. The simple stone storefront had no windows, only one door and a large sign in bright blue letters hanging on the door: 'Legere est tenere imperium.' This shifted periodically to say 'To read is to hold power'.

As they got closer to door, new lettering appeared. "Welcome to Books Galore." Evan read out. A bell rang as they opened the door to the dim and dusty shop. Evan couldn't make out the back wall of the store, but he could see either side of the store- exactly the dimensions that the store front had appeared to be. A single desk stood by the door, with a computer, looking for all appearances to be a normal cash register. There was a small stool behind the desk, currently occupied by a book with a marker about halfway through. It was upside down, so Evan couldn't see the title. He grinned, looking at the monstrous shelves of books that could have stretched for miles.

His parents looked at each other, smiling softly at the antics of their son. Evan grabbed Taylor's hand as a man emerged from within the selves with a book. He was a man in his mid twenties, slightly overweight, and wearing somewhat old-fashioned wire glasses. Loose black pants were paired with a plain white shirt. The man looked surprised to see them standing by his door, and looked up at the ornate clock hanging on the wall to see that it was just past 10.

"He must have opened without telling me again," he murmured to himself. "How can I help you?" The man's piercing blue eyes studied them, as if he was trying to guess from looking at them what they would need.

"We're here to get books for Evan's first year of school." Jeff explained. The man immediately met his gaze.

"Of course, I remember you. You come in here quite often. For the - uh..." his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall. "Uh.... the ones from non-magical society." He seemed pleased with himself for remembering, and then his face fell as he studied Evan. "Bit young, aren't you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes, but Dr. Pomkowski and Principle Fitzgerald said that I needed to start this year, before I had a magical version of a temper tantrum and hurt someone."

The man grinned again. He was a rather happy man. "Excellent. You must be a powerful young man. I don't suppose you've read anything of literary merit at your age," he sighed wistfully. "It would be nice to have a discussion of good plot with someone who appreciates the elegance of words." He gave a pointed look to Jeff, who in turn looked away sheepishly.

"What do you mean by literary merit?" Evan began. Taylor and Justin merely looked at each other and rolled their eyes, sensing the beginning of a long rant. "I mean, 'merit' could be referring to the plot, in which case most children's books would be eliminated, considering the extent of the plot is that a cat was lost and was found, or some children were stupid and subsequently suffered, and that doesn't exactly appeal to me. Of course, you could also be referring to character development, which would eliminate only some children's books, since some only talk about the characteristics of one person." The man's eyes went wider and wider as Evan continued. "Mind you, the most likely option is that you were referring to the book as a whole, which brings up the question again as to what qualifies as literary merit. The whole idea of literary merit is, however, subjective, as what seems to me to be of merit might vastly differ from what a scholar and professor of English deems as merit, and might differ from what you yourself views as worthwhile."

The man was now grinning like the Chesire Cat, only less creepily. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Jean." Being exceptionally bold, Evan took his hand. "Have you ever read any Tolkein?"

Knowing that this would prompt an even longer discussion of books, and also thinking that it would pass quicker if there were no distractions, Taylor pulled out the required book list and caught Justin's eye. He nodded towards the shelves, motioning that he would find Evan's books for him. Justin nodded, and pointed Jeff over before Taylor could get himself lost in the immense rows.

Having missed the gestures, a very puzzled Jeff followed the doctor. "Where are we going?"

"To find Evan's books. He's going to be talking to that guy for a while, so I figure that if I get his books now, he can focus on books he wants for fun." He pulled out the list and handed it to Jeff. "I need to find these. Have any idea where to start?"

The wizard read the list silently, amazed at the quantity.

"Books:

*Alchemy or Necromancy- U.N. Dedd

*How to Speak to the Dead- Eisee Dedpeeps

*The Mystery of Necromantic Runes- Nancy Drew

*The Magic of Math- N. Tangent

*Unraveling the Secrets of Arithmancy- S. Vector

The Crutch of Society- Newt Olivander

*Foolish Wandwaving Not Permitted: The Power of the Mind- S. Snape

**Foolish Wandwaving Not Permitted: The Art of Brewing, A Beginner's Guide- S. Snape

*Complete Catalogue of Common Ingredients- J. Salamander

**A Beginner's Guide to Curses- K. Ramsland

*Index of Dangerous Creatures- J. Tolkein

**101 Easy Defenses- David Caroll

*Needles and Matches: Changing the Element- M. McGonagall

*Beetles and Buttons: Let There Be Life!- M. McGonagall

Supplies:

purified chalk

comfortable clothes for exercise

basic calculator

graph paper

*- These books will be used for all levels of the course

**- These books will be supplied by the teacher.

The bookstores usually have a supply of used books for sale as well."

"How many classes is he taking?"

Taylor shrugged. "Ten. But I wouldn't be surprised if he was done with at least his English class by the end of his second year. He's jumped a reading level since we last checked."

Even with Jeff's navigational skills, the pair got lost numerous times looking for the books Evan would need. The wizard also found and grabbed The Dematerialization and Rematerialization of Objects, Humans, and Animals as a present.

When they arrived back at the front of the store, not knowing how much time had passed, Evan was still talking with Jean, but he looked up at them. "When did you guys leave?" he frowned.

Taylor stretched out a hand to ruffle his son's hair. The books he had found were floating beside him in a basket, powered by some unknown magic in the basket itself. "I was getting your books, kiddo."

Evan was dismayed. "But I wanted to look at books!"

Justin laughed. "Sweetie, you still can. But now you only have to look for books for fun."

Jeff was confused. How had the man known what the other was thinking? Had they somehow communicated, or were they just instinctively on the same wavelength?

Jean distracted him with a loud clap of his hands. "Well! If you're getting books for fun..." he trailed off, a somewhat evil grin on his face. He crooked his fingers, calling out seemingly random names. Books came flying towards him, and were directed into a second basket that had appeared. Ten books all together were pulled from their shelves, and then handed to Evan.

The boy pulled them out one by one. "The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe, Tales of Merlin, The Life and Tales of an Alchemist, Animal Farm, Spell Artist, Adjusting to the World of Magic, Laws Concerning Muggles, Magical Creatures, So Your Child Has Magic, and Famous Icons." He frowned in confusion, lifting his face to ask Jean why those books.

He grinned. "The last few are ones that others from non-magical families have found helpful. Those others are some of my favorites, and I think that you'll enjoy them, especially if you are as intelligent as you seem to be."

Evan turned slightly pink, as if he suddenly remembered he was talking to a complete stranger. "Thank you." he murmured.

Taylor put a hand on his son's shoulder, finally noticing what time it was. "Evan, I think you have enough books for now. Once you're done with these, we can come back and get more, okay?"

Evan, predictably, pouted. "Okay."

After paying for the books, the four exited the store. All of the books were in one cloth bag charmed to not tear, to be weightless, and to store up to 30 volumes. Jeff was yet again conned into explaining exactly how it worked.

The trip into the next store (Betty's Supplies For All Your Rituals) was brief, since all they needed was purified chalk. Evan wanted to linger, but they had spent so much time in the bookstore that it was nearly lunch time.

Jeff was leading them to a restaurant when Evan noticed them.

"Jeff? Why is that store selling brooms?" the boy questioned.

Startled, the men stopped. Taylor and Justin looked across the street at the window display of the sporting goods store, proudly advertising the newest model of broomstick. "Oh. I guess no one explained our sports to you, huh?" Jeff didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Well, there's this game called Quodpot, which is played in the air on broomsticks. There's a more international game called Quidditch, too."

Evan gaped. "You fly? On brooms?"

Justin looked at his partner. "Do you think-"

Taylor looked from the display to Evan's grinning face. "No." he paused. "Well, maybe. I guess its possible. It would explain a lot...." he trailed off. Jeff, who had been explaining the rules of Quodpot to Evan, glanced at them.

"What?" Had he missed something? What the hell were they talking about that had them looking so worried?

Justin smiled weakly. "We think that maybe Evan's birth parents were magical."

The wizard shrugged. "Its entirely possible. After all, magic can be passed down genetically. What makes you think this, so suddenly?"

"He's been obsessed with flying ever since we met him." Evan tinged pink at this, and looked at his feet. "When he was younger, he tried to go down a flight of stairs on our broom." Taylor explained. Evan pulled on his sleeve slightly, the eagerness on his face betraying his age. "Yeah?"

"Can I get a broom? Please Daddy?" He gave his father the puppy dog eyes, and then turned the irresistible gaze on his other father. "Please?"

Justin was ready to cave. Taylor, knowing this, spoke first. "Maybe next year Evan. Learn how to use one of the school ones first, and if you're still interested, we'll talk about it."

He pouted, but knew he had lost to reasonable logic. "Fine."

ELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELBELB

"Time to go get a wand!" Jeff said cheerily as they walked out of the restaurant. It had been a relatively normal meal, aside from the plates that flew to their places.

Evan frowned, an expression that was quickly becoming a habit when he was confused. "I don't understand it at all."

"Understand what?" Taylor was equally confused.

He gave his father a look that said that he should know. "Why a wand is necessary. I mean, what exactly is in a wand?" He continued as Jeff opened the door to the wand shop, a simple store. "What makes it work?" The store was clean and tidy, with barely anything in it other than a register, another door, and a strange shelf resting on the door. "What's the point-" he stopped as he noticed a middle aged woman behind the register. She wore no nametag, nor did she look particularly intimidating or business-like in her faded jeans and black t-shirt, yet the look she gave him was one that held both strength and power.

"Back again, Jeff?" she smirked. "What is it this time? Another student snap it?" she teased.

He turned pink and glared. "No, Becca. Evan's starting school in a couple weeks, and he needs a wand."

She gave the boy a sharp look that quickly softened when she saw the small flinch that it produced. "How old are you, Evan?" Becca's voice was gentle, calm.

"Eight." he practically whispered. Taylor's hand was on his left shoulder, a gentle reassurance, and he could feel his Papa's warm presence right behind him.

She raised an eyebrow. "And what did he test at?" she asked of his parents.

"Level 3, 98." Justin reported. He had figured memorizing those numbers would be important.

The woman's eyes widened. "Well then." She walked to the door with the shelf and began muttering to the either herself or the door, they couldn't quite tell. "Something powerful, but sturdy. Reliable but not predictable. Hm... need more information." With a flick of her wand, which had appeared from nowhere, a measuring tape began to measure the length of his arms and his fingers. "Right handed or left handed?"

"For what?"

She stopped the tape and turned quickly to him. "What?"

He swallowed nervously. "When I'm painting, I'm better with my left hand. When I'm writing, I do better with my right hand."

Becca blinked. "Well. That's interesting." She turned back to the door and spoke clearly. "Row 3, shelf 3, box # 333." The purpose of the shelf became evident as a long, narrow box slid out of the wood onto it. She pulled a light colored wood out of the padded case. "Oak, unicorn hair. 10 inches." She held the point and handed it to Evan, who stared at it. "Wave it, and think about colored sparks."

Evan did as instructed, but the sparks that emitted from his wand nearly set the carpet on fire. "Sorry." he murmured, handing it back.

She smiled. "That's okay. Happens all the time. It just means that you don't work well with a wood like oak. Its too strict for you. The unicorn hair might be a good fit." She returned the wand to the case, and summoned box # 2388 from row 23, shelf 8. "Redwood would be equally dangerous, and pine and willow would be dangerous for the opposite reason. This one's mahogany, with unicorn hair." She handed it to Evan. Instead of emitting dangerous sparks, pure fire flew from the tip. A jet of water from her wand negated it before it could do any damage, and she called forth another box. "The unicorn hair is definitely not your style. The mahogany's perfect, though. Quiet, yet sturdy, strong, and reliable. This is a rare combination: strong and sturdy mixed with a creative dreamer." At their puzzled looks, she continued. "Centaur hair. This one's nine inches."

Evan took the wand nervously. As his hand gripped the handle, he felt a strange calm spread up his arm, relaxing him. He gently swished the wand, and the room filled with brightly colored sparks- not the dangerous variety, but the magical.

Becca smiled triumphantly. "Perfect. That wand will do you good. You should expect that wand to help you do some powerful spells."

Evan placed the wand back in the box, holding it in one hand. "But why? What makes a wand a good match for someone?"

The woman blinked. She had never heard that question before, not even from an adult! "The wand resonates at a particular magical frequency, which is unique to each wand." If he wanted answers, he would have to deal with the technical lingo, because she wasn't going to dumb this down for him. "The core and the wood react with each other to make this frequency. The magic inside us also resonates with a unique frequency, known as our magical signature, which our characteristics create. The wand frequency has to match the user's, or it creates detrimental reaction, similar to how elements react badly with certain other elements. The closer the resonances match, the better the fit. That wand almost perfectly matches your core." She expected the boy to blink, maybe look at her in confusion, and perhaps pretend to understand. What she didn't anticipate was a thoughtful nod, a small smile, and a soft "Oh. Alright then."

When the boy and the three men left, after giving her the $30 for the wand, Becca stood in a daze, wondering who that boy was. That was a powerful wand, and he must be a powerful boy. With a wand like that, he could grow to a power that no one had seen in centuries. From outside, she heard his voice, crisp and clear.

"Daddy, can we go to the pet store? Please?"

She smiled. Even a powerful child was still a child. She was glad his parents, odd as they were, seemed to be letting him maintain his innocence as long as possible.

Finally, Evan was acting his age: he was an excited eight year old, wanting to go see the pets that the store had to offer. And Taylor had to give in. He had no choice- he could only refuse Evan's puppy dog eyes for so long, and then his partner turned a similar gaze on him. Now he knew where Evan got it from. "Alright. But no promises! We already have a ton of animals." It was unclear whether he was telling Evan or Justin this.

The trip didn't start well. Almost immediately after they entered the store, Taylor felt something small and hard smack him on his head. "Ouch!" He looked up, rubbing the impact point, to see what hit him. Not seeing anything, he looked at the ground. He bent to pick up a small object.

"An acorn?" Justin asked. "An acorn hit your head?"

The store worker, a nervous-looking, pimple-covered teenage boy, winced. "Eh, sorry about that. I've been trying to catch Winston all morning. He got loose when I was feeding him."

Jeff looked at him. "What exactly is Winston?"

The teenager cringed. "Chameleon squirrel."

The blue haired man smacked his forehead. "I can't believe this. A chameleon squirrel is loose in the store. Great. Just wonderful."

Evan crinkled his eyebrows. "What's a chameleon squirrel?"

"It's a magically bred species of squirrel that can blend into anything. They're notorious for throwing things randomly." The nameless worker explained. "What type of pet are you looking for?"

Taylor sighed. "We're just looking around to see what you have. We're not going to buy anything." he reminded Justin and Evan sternly. Evan just grinned at him as he and his Papa took off to investigate. Justin paused momentarily to look at the color-changing rabbits, and Evan was gone.

He ended up in the reptile section, amidst tame corn lizards and turtles, and the dangerous magical breeds of fire breathing geckos, vanishing vipers, and other various cold-blooded animals. Evan stopped by a large tank on the back wall, surrounded by cages of sleeping snakes. This cage held only one snake, making it stand out. It was only a foot long, and about 2 inches wide; its deep green scales looked black. Its label proclaimed it a 'Deadly and Dangerous Snake- Not to Have Around Small Children.' In its sleeping form, the small snake looked cute and harmless. The snake was apparently called a Nox Mors, Night Death. The one in the cage was female, and only a few weeks old, going by the date on the cage. She was curled under a branch, her pointed head tucked into her folds. Evan put a hand on the glass, awed by te shimmering scales. "Hello, girl. You're gorgeous." he murmured to her, smiling. He gasped as she lifted her head and stared right into his eyes with her own bright green orbs.

"Thank you," a soft, slightly feminine voice said out of nowhere.

The boy jumped, eyes darting around to see who had spoken. Finding no one, he looked back at the snake. "Did you just talk?" he asked skeptically.

She nodded. "Yesss. I've heard the othersss talking before, and they told me you two-leggersss don't talk, but sssome of you can." She sounded like an eager child, tongue flicking as she tasted the air. "You sssmell different than the other two-leggersss."

Evan giggled. "I'm Evan. What's your name?"

She bent her head to one side, and slithered closer to the glass. "My name? I don't have one. The othersss told me that my owner will name me."

"Who are the others that you're talking about?"

With her tail, she gestured to the other cages. "The othersss. We talk when the two-leggersss aren't around, sssince they get nervousss when we hissssss. They're sleeping now. They're boring," she whined.

Evan grinned again. "I get bored too, sometimes, but my Papa and Daddy are good at inventing games, or they take me horseback riding, or something like that." Anything else he was going to say was interrupted by a shocked gasp. Evan whirled around to see his Papa.

"Evan, were you just-," he swallowed, face pale. "Talking to a snake? And hissing?" The boy frowned.

"I wasn't hissing. But I was talking to her."

Jeff found them before Justin had a chance to talk any more. "Hey, there you are. Taylor's around here somewhere. This place is a bit harder to navigate than I thought." He saw Justin's pale face. "What happened?"

Evan shrugged. "I was talking to this snake. She's really quite nice."

Taylor walked in at this moment. "Talking to a snake? What?" He looked utterly confused.

The wizard's eyebrows raised. "Wow. Were you really talking to her, or was she just seeming to respond?" He didn't seem particularly surprised to hear that she had actually talked back to him.

"Is this another magic thing, or-" Taylor trailed off.

Jeff grinned. "Its not a typical magic thing, but yes, it does have a little bit of magic involved. Evan here is a Parselmouth, meaning he can speak Parseltongue, the snake language. The magic part that comes in is that he innately knows it. With practice, he'll be able to talk in Parseltongue whenever he wants to, but until he gets to that point, he needs to see a snake for it to work." He paused, gaging their reactions. Since they seemed calm enough, he continued. "It's a highly regarded ability here, ever since an attempted assassination last century, but in the UK and most of Europe, actually, it is considered a mark of a dark wizard, to be a Parselmouth. Which is a completely ridiculous idea of course. Just because one maniac who went on a killing spree was a Parselmouth, it makes everyone else with the same ability evil."

Evan smirked, and his parents merely looked relieved. "So I can talk to any snake?"

"Yup."

"Awesome." He turned to his parents. "Can I please buy this snake? I have some birthday money saved up, and I promise I'll take good care of her, and I promise not to ask for a broom again this year," he pleaded.

Taylor wanted to say no. He really did. A snake would be a lot of work, and one like this would likely be expensive as well. He looked at Justin, who he could tell was deliberating the same thing in his mind. "Let your Papa and me talk for a minute, okay?" The pair went into a corner by some brightly colored fish. "I don't know if we should. Is he-"

"Ready for the responsibility? I don't know. I think so. I mean, he grooms and tacks Ardeth by himself, now. But what about the cost?" Justin interjected.

Taylor sighed. "I know. Those books of his weren't that bad, but if he needs that amount again, or wants more for fun, we might have to limit him." His eyes glinted suddenly. "What if we treat it as-"

Justin caught on, grinning in delight. "An early Christmas present! Perfect. He can use some of his birthday money to pay for the extras, but we'll pay for the snake and the cage."

They informed Evan of the deal, and he squealed, hugging his parents tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" They hugged him back, smiling broadly.

"Just don't expect anything big for Christmas this year." Justin reminded him.

The teenager turned ash-white when they told him which snake they wanted to buy. "But- that- that's the deadliest snake in the store!" he protested.

Evan frowned at him. "She may be poisonous, but she's not deadly. She's very sweet, and promises not to bite anyone unless they're trying to hurt her."

The teenager stopped in his tracks. "You're a Parselmouth?" At Evan's nod, he visibly relaxed. "Okay. I just have to get the manager from the back. He has to do all the sales of the more dangerous animals."

When the manager returned, they filled out a waiver saying that they had been informed of all the risks of the animal in question, and wouldn't hold the store responsible for any injuries or fatalities. They also got a long spiel on how to take care of a snake, what they needed, and things like that. The manager then put Evan's new pet (while wearing thick dragonhide gloves) into a small carrying cage which was made of what looked like steel with small air holes punched in it. The regular cage and assorted supplies were shrunken down to fit in a small plastic bag. With Evan carrying his snake, they finally left the store. Before they went home, they stopped briefly back to see Jean for a good book on Parselmouths. Jeff also told Evan how he would be getting to and from school each day.

Evan would take the bus for New Hampshire. It would pick him up at exactly 7 a.m. at his house, and pick up the rest of the students from the state, using the same magic as the PT did. The bus would be back at the school by 7:45 after dropping the girls from Salem Academy of Witchcraft (who would share the busses, in the morning and afternoon), SWA's partner school, at their facility. The same bus would leave the school at 3:15, but another bus (this one for both New Hampshire and Massachusetts), would leave the school at 4:15. A bus would also be carrying some of the students of SAW to the SWA campus for a class period, as the Necromancy class was going to be a combined class due to its small size.

By the time the Levey-Bensons returned to their home, it was nearly dinner time. Once Evan had been put to bed, Taylor and Justin sat up to talk about something they hadn't mentioned in many years.

"What if they want him back?" Justin spoke quietly, but the words still struck deep.

"We don't even know if they're still around." Taylor tried to comfort him.

The artist played with his glass. "Why would they give him to the orphanage? Why didn't they want him? What if-" he paused to take a sip of his cocktail, "it was a mistake? And they try to take him back? What if-"

Taylor hugged him close, interrupting his tirade. "Don't. Don't think about it. We have a really good lawyer. If they are around, and try to get him back, we'll fight." Both of them were close to tears. Neither man wanted to think of what would happen if Evan's parents were alive and wanted him back, but both knew that it was possible that his parents, or other relatives, would try to get him back.

But if that happened, they would fight with everything they had. Don't mess with Americans- especially when it comes to their children.

_If you can correctly guess what book character Jean is based off of, I will give you a little snippet of a chapter to come that is already written. For more information on Quodpot or Quidditch, you can go to Wikipedia. That's where I found my info. _


	6. Chapter 6: Adventures of a Thriving Mind

_**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!!!**_

_Okay, so there are a few things that I need to point out that I realized that I hadn't yet. _

_1. This is not a Horcrux story. No offense to J.K., but I don't like it. Nor did I like Harry being one. _

_2. I have shifted the timeline up a little bit. Harry (a.k.a. Evan) was born on July 31, 1986. His parents were killed in October of 1987. The years correspond with everything else- meaning that I'm saying everything happened 5 years later than J.K. says it does- but it happens within the same time frame. If this isn't clear, I'm sorry. I just need Evan to be a teenager in the 2000's, because I am a child of the late 90's, so I don't really know anything about childhood in the 80's, like the canon H.P.. _

_3. I have decided who Evan is going to be with. It is going to be a slash pairing, but I'm not telling you who it is until later. If you don't like slash pairings for characters that weren't originally gay, I apologize, but I happen to like slash pairings when they make sense. Unconventional slash pairings (Harry/ Snape, for example) are not exactly my cup of tea- but I have read some that make it make sense and be cute. This is__ not__ going to be Harry/Snape, by the way._

_4. Snape and McGonnagall will not be teaching in America. I don't know about other schools, but there are many textbooks (read: all) supplied by the teachers in my school that are not written by the teacher. _

_5. As I have mentioned before, American magical society is much more integrated into muggle society. This means that they have discovered ways to make technology work in heavy magic-zones like Hogwarts. Also, S.W.A. isn't like Hogwarts. It isn't saturated in magic, nor built by it. It is merely a normal school building, with a few "upgrades", like filters for dangerous gases created in Potions, magically warded rooms, and so forth. _

_6. I own none of the Harry Potter characters or places. I do own people you don't recognize in this story, as well as the theory of magical America and why wands work, and other geeky physics rambling that I have made up. _

_7. My Beta is awesome. She is very patient with me, even though I am having difficulties writing at this current time because of a huge number of things. She has been very supportive of me. _

_8. My friend/conspirator, Jessie, is responsible for some of the more random moments in the story (like the whole acorn thing). _

_Now, on to a more serious note. I'm sorry about my lack of updating for a while, but as you remember, I've been struggling with college applications. Recently, I have also had a very troubling time emotionally. My grandmother, who is in her 70's, has been diagnosed with cancer. She had it many years ago, and had a massectomy. She had to have another one a few weeks ago, and at that time they removed several lymph nodes which were also cancerous. Since she is already in a non-ideal physical state, it is doubtful that she will live for very much longer. I think I will be lucky if she is able to come to my graduation. I don't mean to depress all of you, but I just wanted to warn you of the possibility of me dropping of the face of the earth for a few months. _

_And a special thanks to Jessie, who was kind enough to be my beta for this chapter, as Linny is currently in vacation in England, funnily enough. _

_Thank you for continuing to read. _

_~Dark Wolf Shadow _

**Chapter Six: Adventures of a Thriving Mind **

Evan's alarm began blaring at 6:00 am on Monday, September 3. He shot out of bed, grinning and wide awake. He rushed around his room, feeding Sasha a mouse, getting dressed, and brushing his teeth. It was only 6:20 when he came running down the stairs for breakfast. Justin and Taylor were both up, the latter dressed in his work clothes, coffee in hand, and the former still in sweat-pants and a tattered t-shirt, bleary eyed and clutching his mug as if it were a lifeline. A bowl of Evan's favorite cereal, Cocoa Puffs, was sitting on the table for him.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully. "Thanks." he added as he sat down to eat his breakfast.

"Mornin'." Justin managed to groan out. He was used to waking up at 8:00 to feed the horses and put them out before starting his day of painting, but he wanted to see his baby boy off to his first day of magic school. He had helped Evan pack his backpack the night before, and they were very glad that Jeff had charmed the bag to expand the inside and lighten it considerably, because otherwise, he wouldn't have been ably to fit everything he needed inside. Evan also had a lunch box (Power Rangers) packed by his Papa, and a change of clothes for his martial arts class after school.

At 6:55, Taylor pushed Evan's jacket on and was pulled out of the door to walk him down to the end of the driveway. Justin had pulled on a pair of jeans and thrown on a sweatshirt to combat the cooling September air, and was following closely. While Evan was slightly embarrassed that his parents were going to the bus stop with him, he was also glad for the extra support. He may be able to hide and suppress some of his shyness and fear of strangers from most people, but his parents knew him better. None of them knew where this fear had come from, but if it proved detrimental to his school life in the next few months, they would talk to Evan about seeing one of Taylor's associates and friends who specialized in child psychology.

At 7:00 on the dot, there was a quiet pop, and a typical yellow school bus appeared in front of the driveway. On one side, in large black lettering, were the words "Salem Academy Transportation." The doors opened, and Evan hugged his parents before boarding the bus. Once he found an empty seat, near the front, the bus took off again with a quiet pop, leaving Taylor and Justin standing alone, staring at the empty road.

They walked back to the house silently, afraid for their son. As Taylor grabbed his bag and appointment book to get ready to leave, Justin hugged him tightly. Grinning, Taylor bend his head slightly to kiss his partner. "Have a good day at work." Justin smiled once they broke the kiss. He pulled his partner's lunch off the counter before he forgot it- again. He hesitated. "He'll be okay, won't he?" the artist's voice trembled slightly.

Taylor sighed, planting a kiss on the top of Justin's head. "I hope so. We'll find out tonight I guess."

Once the pediatrician had left, Justin went to feed the three horses and turn them out. It wouldn't do them any harm to be out an hour early. He collapsed on the couch afterwards, planning on taking a nap before trying to finish a landscape painting for a show in the spring. Then he spotted the photograph that he had taken of Evan holding Sasha. Immediately he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sketch pad and a box of pencils from the kitchen. He raced up to Evan's room, photograph in hand, and planted himself on the floor in front of Sasha's cage. He began to draw furiously, losing track of time as the graphite steadily increased on the page. He took his pad down to the basement to pull out a piece of canvas for his new piece, ignoring the height of the sun in the sky and the rumbling of his stomach. He cut a section from his roll and brought it out to the yard to pin it to his easel. He transferred the sketch to the canvas with quick precision, adding the background he now saw.

The only reason he stopped before he began mixing the paints was the lighting. It was all wrong. He frowned up at the sky, realizing suddenly that the sun was very low in the West, only about three hours away from sinking below the horizon. Taylor would be coming home soon, with Evan shortly after that. Justin finally took notice of the noises his stomach was making as he gathered up his supplies and brought them back into the house. He stashed the canvas in the basement, in his cabinet that he used for projects he didn't want anyone else to see until they were done.

The front door opened. "Honey, I'm home!" called Taylor in his usual greeting.

"I'm down here!" Justin yelled. "I'll be right up." When he did emerge from the basement, he was greeted by the sight of a shirtless, barefoot man with shaggy hair standing in the middle of the living room. Justin smirked. "What's the occasion?" Taylor looked up, rolling his eyes as he smiled.

"Mind out of the gutter. My last patient of the day puked all over my shirt. Poor kid has a bad case of the flu that's going around. I kinda just want to take a shower right now." Justin smirked again, even as he was grossed out by the image of his partner covered in vomit.

"Nothing says we can't do both. Evan won't be home for another-" he looked at the clock. "10 minutes. Damn." He sighed, disappointed.

Taylor smiled softly. "Sorry, babe. Tomorrow I'm off at two." he winked, making Justin laugh.

"As much as I appreciate the view, you'd better go take a shower and put on some clean clothes before he gets home." Taylor gave the shorter man a quick kiss before running up the stairs.

Ten minutes later, since only men can take such a quick shower, Evan found both of his fathers sitting in the living room. His Dad was sitting on one end of the couch, with his Papa curled into his side. They smiled at him, suppressing urges to run up to him and hug him tight.

"Hey Sweetie." Justin greeted. "Put your stuff down and come over here."

Evan dropped his backpack and came running, bouncing onto the couch, and slid into his Papa's side. "Hi."

"How was school?" Taylor asked, trying to conceal his nerves. He was not encouraged by his son's shrug.

"Classes were pretty good. Martial arts was really hard. And I have a lot of notes for you to sign." Oddly, he didn't seem too enthusiastic about the day, which threw up red flags.

"Evan, what's wrong?" Justin asked softly. "Did something happen today?" Taylor's heart lurched, as did Justin's, when the tears welled up in their son's eyes. Immediately they sat up and pulled him between them, the method they had discovered worked best during panic attacks of his childhood. "Did someone hurt you?" Justin's voice became ragged and panicky.

"No, Papa." he sniffled, burying his face in his Daddy's shirt. He mumbled something.

"What was that?" Taylor practically whispered.

He pulled his face up slightly. "I got yelled at in front of the whole class."

Taylor spun into Protective Mode. "By who? Why?"

"Mrs. Richards, my English teacher. She was asking everyone what they read over the summer, and she yelled at me for lying. But I wasn't lying!"

Taylor frowned. "Lying about what?"

"Reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy. She said that it was impossible that someone in Level 2 could have read it, 'cause it's a Level 4 book, and 'cause I'm so young I shouldn't be reading stuff from the Level 1 class."

"What happened after that?"

"She sent me into the hall. One of the notes for you is saying that I need to be tutored in English, so I can catch up to the Level 1 class."

Furious, Taylor put Evan against Justin and stood. He went to the phone, found the card on the fridge, and dialed Principle Fitzgerald's home number. "Hi, Dr. Fitzgerald? This is Taylor Levey- Benson. I'm calling in regard to something that occurred today between Evan and his English teacher, Mrs. Richards." He paused. "You weren't aware of anything? Well, Evan has a note from Mrs. Richards for us to sign that explains that you made an error in placing Evan, and he needs to get a tutor to catch up to the first level class." He paused again, clearly listening to the principle's response, interjecting the occasional "okay", "uh-huh," and "I understand." "That sounds fine Dr. Fitzgerald. Thank you very much. You too." He hung up the phone and turned back to his anxious family. Justin had managed to dry his son's eyes, but they still showed the clear signs of crying. "He's going to have a talk to her, and see if he can figure something out."

Dr. Fitzgerald was able to resolve the matter by having a stern talk with Mrs. Richards, and switching her with another teacher for that class period. Knowing that Evan was the cause for the replacement teacher, the members of the class who favored Mrs. Richards only proved to further isolate Evan, forcing him deeper and deeper into his shell. The only class he seemed to open up in was Necromancy. There were only three others taking the class, an two of them were girls from Salem Academy for Witches. The other boy, Trevor Andrews, was 14 and in his fourth year at school. One girl, Maxine Ridal, was 13, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The other, Amelia Sayers, was 10, and had long brown hair and brown eyes. Evan mostly talked with his teacher in the class, but he was slowly talking more and more. Amelia, who was shy due to the age difference, was opening up more too, as they both realized that this was the one class where it didn't matter how old you are, as long as you paid attention and had talent. By the time first quarter report cards came out, Amelia and Evan were on their way to becoming best friends.

Evan's report card was fantastic. He had almost all A's, but with a few A-'s thrown in. It was the comments section, however, that bothered his parents. Each one, except for necromancy, said that Evan needed to "participate more in class and interact with the other students." Evan wouldn't, or maybe couldn't, tell them why he still feared crowds so deeply, or why he shied away from strangers. He seemed especially frightened of certain people, such as his inherent fear of men with long, white beards. He was even terrified of the mall Santa Clause until he realized that the beard was fake. Needless to say, they never visited that mall Santa again. Because of all of this, and because they knew it would only get worse as the years progressed, they scheduled and appointment with a friend of Taylor's, who would hopefully be able to help.

Dr. Jonathan Lee was a 45 year old, 6' 1" brunette with blue eyes. The only fear Evan felt upon meeting him was his usual fear of strangers. It was good that the man wasn't bald, as they had discovered that particular fear at the first dentist they went to. During the first session, Dr. Lee theorized that many of Evan's fears may have originated from a traumatic event which transpired before an age which he could remember. This was more common in children who had been abandoned, and it was likely that whatever traumatic event was damaging Evan's psyche was connected to or was the event which caused him to be left at an orphanage miles away from any city.

Dr. Lee had told them that there were many different options for helping Evan cope, from anti- anxiety medication (which he disliked prescribing to anyone under the age of 16), to hypnosis, to more sessions to talk through his problems to try to uncover the reason, and not just treat the symptoms. The decision was made to just continue with the sessions, at least until they knew more of what was going on.

By Thanksgiving, they had made small progress. Dr. Lee had confirmed their suspicions that Evan's intelligence and speed of learning was developed through his anti-social tendencies. Since he was constantly around people other than himself, and because of his fear of strangers, he would rather pick up a book then go play a game. So, as his reading level grew, he expanded his reading material to include math and science, building more and more of a wall between himself and children of his own age. School was helping to break down these walls, but only in Evan's necromancy class. Of course, they couldn't exactly tell Dr. Lee of the true nature of SWA, since he would most probably think they were insane. One of Dr. Lee's suggestions to helping Evan talk to more children was for him to join a sports team. "Martial arts is all well and good," he said, "but a team sport like soccer or basketball would allow true interaction with others." Evan decided that he would sign up for the basketball team, and see if he liked it. If he didn't, he would try soccer next fall.

Something happened shortly after Thanksgiving, however, that would change many things.

Evan was sitting calmly in his room on Saturday, finally able to sit down and read some of the books Jean had recommended. He decided to start with Famous Magical Icons. Reading throughout the afternoon, he was about to start the last chapter, "Icons of the Twentieth Century", when he was called down to dinner. Justin and Taylor were trying to get him to eat more vegetables, so that night's meal consisted of boiled beets, asparagus, rice mixed with green beans, and grilled chicken. While tentative at trying the reddish vegetable, he discovered that it was actually pretty good, especially with a bit of butter on top. He refused to touch the strange smelling spears.

After dinner, Evan retreated back upstairs, under the promise that he would come back down once his book was done to watch a movie. He settled himself in his bed, and opened back up to the last chapter to begin reading.

"In Europe, mainly the United Kingdoms, the 1970's and 80's were terrifying times. A self-proclaimed Dark Lord, Voldemort, and his minions waged war. Anyone of muggle descent was in danger from his Death Eaters, as they and their leader believed that only those who could trace their lineage back through at least three generations of magic users were worthy of living. This of course is completely ridiculous. Researchers from around the world have looked into what makes someone able to wield magic, and they have come to a unanimous decision that it has to do with genetics. Someone with the right gene have magic, and if the gene is activated they are able to use it. If the gene remains dormant because of a certain protein that is missing, then that person is not able to use it. Many muggles actually have this magic gene, but it lies dormant within them and with time and proper chemicals, those genes could be activated. The protein which activates the magical gene has a similar structure to adrenaline, and this causes a temporary activation of the gene, allowing for certain non-magical people to perform feats well beyond their normal strength.

"Voldemort's reign came to an end in October of 1987, on Halloween (the most cliched of all days). He had gone to the home of Lily and James Potter, two of the strongest Aurors of Great Britain. He killed them both, and was going to kill their one year old son, Harry James Potter, but the Killing Curse backfired, leaving only a small lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead. Voldemort's body presumably disintegrated at the magical backlash which destroyed a large portion of the Potter's house. Harry was idolized in the UK as "The Boy Who Lived", and was sent to live with unknown people at an unknown location. He has his father's black hair, his mother's emerald green eyes, and of course the memorable lightning bolt scar in the center of his forehead."

Evan stopped reading, heart pounding. He stood and looked in the mirror at his own green eyes, and the messy black hair that covered his forehead. Nervously, he lifted his bangs to look at the strange faded scar that he had when he was dropped off at the orphanage. The mark of Zeus. He picked up his book and read the description again. He looked in the mirror. Evan bolted down the stairs, book in hand, with an ashen face and rapidly quickening breath.

Startled by his sudden appearance in the kitchen, Taylor stood, only to have a book thrust under his nose. As he read, Justin tried to calm Evan down before he started to hyperventilate. Taylor's eyes widened. "Holy shit."

Justin didn't even scold him before he had the book pushed in front of him. Once he read the passage, he looked up at Evan. "Holy shit." Justin plopped himself down on the floor. Taylor sat next to him, pulling their eight year old between them. "What are we going to do about this?"

Evan, now merely shaking, didn't respond.

"What can we do?" Taylor began. "We've been involved in magic for what, ten months? And no one's recognized him yet."

Justin blinked. "The adoption papers legalized Evan's name, and the orphanage only knew him as Evan Jameson." he said softly.

Evan breathed in deeply. "So my parents didn't abandon me. They didn't not want me." he said almost questioningly.

"Of course they wanted you, sweetie." Justin soothed.

"That evil guy, Moldy Shorts or whatever, ruined that. But you stopped him." Taylor continued.

Evan's fathers held him as he quietly mourned the parents he never knew.

ELBDMELBDMELBDMELBDMELBDMELBDMELBDMELBDM

At his next appointment with Dr. Lee, Evan told him everything. He had discussed it with his parents beforehand, and they decided that it was the best thing to do in regards to helping Evan with his phobias and subconscious issues. There wasn't really any way to tell the psychologist about the circumstances of Evan's birth parents' deaths, and his subsequent abandonment, without first informing him how they found the information. Thus, they told him everything.

Dr. Lee was extremely understanding, all things considered. He didn't have a panic attack, or call nice men in white coats. He merely frowned, confused, and was disbelieving until Evan pulled out the book he had found Harry Potter's picture in, complete with moving pictures. "Well. This does explain a few things, then. An event like this would certainly have affected your psyche, especially considering the fact that you were left at an orphanage. Your fear of strangers must stem from the murder of your parents. The only thing it doesn't explain is your persisting fear of men with long white beards."

Evan blushed. "I was able to get over that sort of. I talk to my grandfather now, and I only get a little nervous."

Dr. Lee smiled. "That's good." They continued the session as they always did, discussing any new anxieties or anything Evan felt he was improving on.

It seemed like before the Levey-Bensons knew it, Christmas had come and gone. They had their usual big gathering, and Evan got to see his favorite cousin, Charlie. The boy was practically the only child Evan was able to relax around and play with.

Evan received a new pencil set for his drawing, an easel and drawing paper, and a few new toys. In the exchange for the adults (Not-So-Secret-Santa, they called it), Justin got a gift certificate for a tack shop and a large box of horse treats from Lydia, Taylor's cousin. John, Justin's brother-in-law, gave Taylor a 4,000 piece jigsaw puzzle of a doctor's office.

Taylor currently had the puzzle set up on the small table in the living room, while the three of them sat up to watch the ball drop. He was only done with the edges and a small section of the blue ceiling by 10:00, when he looked over at his partner and his son. Evan was curled up on the floor with Wolfie, and Justin was fast asleep on the couch, clutching a pillow. Smiling, he stood up and put the loose pieces back in the box.

The doctor stretched briefly, wincing as his back cracked. He knelt next to the boy and his dog. Wolfie lifted his head at the removal of the warm body, and lurched to his feet to follow Taylor up the stairs to Evan's room. Once Evan was tucked in, never even stirring from his trip up the stairs in his father's arms, Wolfie jumped onto the bed to sleep at his feet.

Smiling softly again, Taylor looked at his son sleeping with his loyal dog.

"Adorable, isn't it?" came the soft voice of his partner from behind him. Justin happily went to Taylor's arms when they were opened.

"I thought you were asleep," he murmured, resting his head on the artist's shoulder.

"Yeah, I woke up. And now that he's asleep, and it's New Year's...." he trailed off, smirking.

Taylor grinned, and led Justin out of their son's room and into their own down the hall, shutting and locking the door behind them.

_Hm.... No one's really guessed who Jean was based on. I'll give you a hint. It's a character in a series that is relatively unknown, and the third book in the series comes out in August. Oh, and its by a guy with the first name Scott. I'll give you until Chapter 7 to come up with an answer and get the sneak preview! Hey, if you even just guess I might give you the preview. _


	7. Chapter 7: Times of Change

_Hey everybody! Sorry about the long wait for this. I had to get used to my new laptop for school, and I got really busy with some emotional stuff. Good news is that I already have a large portion of the next chapter written, I just need to type it and have my amazing beta Lindsey read it for me. I'm off to college in a little more than a month, so I'll update as often as I can until then. No promises for regular updates after that, though. _

_Okay, I can't seem to find who the person is that won, but congratulations! And the author's name is Scott Lynch. The book I'm referring to is called __The Lies of Locke Lamora__, and one of the main characters is named Jean Tannen. It's an amazing, albeit gorey and explicit, story. _

_Much thanks to all of you who have kept with me throughout the story, and are still reading, despite my considerable lack of updates for a while. Oh, and Jessie, if you're reading this, I miss your input! _

_Remember, reviews help me get better at writing and give me motivation to type faster! _

**Chapter Seven: Times of Change**

Justin nervously buttoned up his crisp white shirt, inspecting himself in the bathroom mirror. He combed his hair flat and ran gel through with his fingers. When he felt he was ready, he stepped out into the bedroom, where Taylor was sitting on the bed tying his shoes. He was wearing black dress pants and a fresh light blue shirt. He looked up at his partner and his eyes widened.

"Do I look alright?" Justin asked, voice quivering slightly.

Taylor stood, straightened Justin's collar, and placed a light kiss on his lips. "You look great. Besides, everyone's going to be looking at your paintings." He mock glared at the shorter artist now clinging to him. "Which you still haven't shown me most of."

Justin giggled and backed away, spinning to put on his own shoes. "I want them to be a surprise." he said, not for the first time. "Is Evan ready to go?" He stood upright, looking over his partner.

"Yeah, he's waiting in the living room, under orders not to play with Wolfie." Taylor took the comb from the dresser and fixed his hair. "I think we're good to go."

Evan, clean and dressed up in nice pants and a plain shirt, was asleep in the backseat within minutes of leaving the driveway. For whatever reason, car rides were always a sure-fire way to get the intelligent eight year old to sleep.

It wasn't Justin's first showing, of course, but it was the first of this magnitude. The gallery where his paintings currently were was invitation only. It was considered an honor to be invited to have a showing in the Bastille Gallery of Boston, and if the right people showed up and were impressed, he would be on his way to bigger events, meaning more publicity.

Once they arrived at the gallery, Justin went to find his agent before the hall opened to the crowd that was already gathering. Before long, the nervous artist stood in front of the curtain that separated the entrance room from the gallery hall. "Thank you for coming. This collection has three distinct episodes, inspired by various things in my life. I hope you enjoy it."

With a grand sweep, his agent opened the curtain and the guests swarmed in, eager to see the new artist's work.

Justin had separated his pieces into three sections, each in a different room. The first piece, titled "End" was a long panoramic style canvas displaying a breathtaking English castle with a sunset behind it. Trees stretched in every direction, and if you looked closely between them, you could see woodland creatures of all sizes.

A photograph, printed on canvas and stretched, followed; it was a quaint red farm house with peeling paint. A rooster sat on the fence, chickens swarming the ground. Several other pieces, inspired by the far gone trip to England, followed. Justin approached the next collection, Taylor by his side and Evan following, with trepidation. This collection was entirely inspired by Evan, and he was scared of the response it would get from his family and the audience. The iconic piece was his favorite, and also the last in the room.

At first glance, the first piece was more abstract than his others were. The entire canvas, perhaps one foot by eight inches, was filled with shades of green, swirling around a center of green so dark it was nearly black. The outer edge was a pale green streaked through with white. Within the green were swirls of yellow and blue, creating an eerily intense stare.

The next piece was a photograph of an empty playground, mounted with a simple beveled beige mat. The swing was in mid flight, the slide begging to be used. Peering out from the fort under the slide was a barely visible solemn face. Many viewers thought of this as an eerie piece, which in truth it was. It was meant to depict the hidden sorrow and depression found within his child, as well as within society as a whole. Evan was one of the select few, along with his parents, who realized that there was a monarch butterfly flying through the frame, blending in with the slide.

The variety of pieces continued, and when Justin reached his iconic piece, he began to sweat nervously. A crowd of people hovered around the large canvas, buzzing excitedly.

The canvas, reaching nearly three feet by two feet, seemed to jump from the wall with its vivid colors. Evan, the painted, stood in the meadow behind their house, Sasha draped around him. Their shadows stretched behind them, the sunlight illuminating the serpent with an unearthly glow which stretched to Evan's striking eyes. Sasha's head rested on her boy's shoulder, a coil around his neck, as the rest of her draped over his chest and cradled arms. In a glance, Evan was being strangled. But a second look revealed the content and joy on his face, as well as the snake's sleeping head.

Evan was embarrassed that his Papa had painted a picture of him, but was overjoyed that his Papa thought he was special enough to paint so many pictures inspired by him. The family passed into the next room, walking by a tall man with long platinum blonde hair talking to a woman and a boy who was practically a miniature of him.

"This work is excellent. Brilliantly riddled with subtext, unlike most of muggle art." The cultured British tones caught Evan's attention, as did the word "muggle". He wanted to stop, to ask if he was a wizard, but then the boy, his hair cropped short, looked at him with grey-blue eyes. Realization shone through them, and he smiled widely and waved.

Evan smiled, and waved shyly back, cheeks flushed. The blonde boy started to walk across the room, but only managed to get a few steps before his father reprimanded him quietly. The boy frowned, upset, and when he looked back, Evan was already in the next room.

By the end of the night, Evan was exhausted. His fathers were sitting with him, talking to Justin's agent. The rooms had all cleared, and it was only the four remaining.

"I've had bids on several of your pieces, Mr. Levey-Benson. The Eye, Playing with Ghosts, End, the one of the waterfall, and also a sizable bid on Light." Justin froze. Light was the title of his piece of Evan and Sasha.

"I hope you told them Light wasn't for sale. It's far too personal to be hanging in a stranger's home."

The agent fidgeted. "Well, I did, but he insisted on making a formal bid, and he gave me his card. He said something about wanting the painting to be a present for someone." He passed Justin the piece of paper.

"Lucius Malfoy?" Taylor read.

"Yes. He's a very prominent art collector in Great Britain, and he's bought only the best of the trades. He also made the bids on the Eye and End."

Justin sighed. He hated the monetary part of artistry. "Did he offer the price we listed for both?"

His agent shook his head. "No. He's offering $1500 for both, and he said he would be willing to pay $2000 or more for Light."

Justin raised his eyebrows. "Really? But Eye is only $350 and End is $750!"

His agent grinned. "I know. But there was already a bid on Eye for the listed price, and Mr. Malfoy wanted it. He was willing to write a check right then, but I told him to wait until all the bids were in."

Justin sighed. "Let him have Eye and End for $1500, but Light isn't for sale. I'd be willing to give him a framed print of it, but nothing larger than a 12 by 18." He stood, grabbing his jacket. "Call me tomorrow with the rest of the details, okay? Thanks."

"EVAN! Your report card's here!" Taylor shouted up the stairs. Footsteps were heard, coming from Evan's room and from the porch. Within moments, Evan and Justin were both in the room. The boy grabbed the envelope and tore it open.

"All A's!" he chirped. "Except... band. I got a C," he drooped.

"That's okay," soothed Taylor. "You can't be a brilliant supergenius at everything."

Evan sighed. "I think I'm gonna drop it next year. Take art or something."

"When can you start taking language classes?" Justin asked.

"Not 'til year three. An' I can't take Animagus class 'til I'm 13 'cause of the age laws." he was pouting.

Justin pulled the course selection sheet from the large envelope. "Why don't we sign you up for classes, then? The earlier you send them in, the better pick you get." Evan decided to continue on with all of his courses except for band, and take Sculpture class instead.

Over the next two years, Evan improved drastically. He didn't skip any more levels, and he was finally able to take courses on animagus transformations. The top-secret subdivision of the American government responsible for all magical laws had restricted the age, since gifted children were becoming animagi and wanting to stay in their forms. Evan still hadn't found his form, but he was well on his way to organizing himself enough so that he could. He had become very close with Amelia, and she had become almost like a sister to him. His necromancy course would be ending sometime this year, and once he had finished it, he would start his apprenticeship with the teacher, Vincent Pierce. Evan was close to mastering wandless magic as well. Within the next year or so he would be able to take the standardized test to proclaim him a master, advanced, skilled, mediocre, or inexperienced wandless magic user. If someone scored lower than a skilled, they had to spend another two years in addition to their previous four years of apprenticeship before they could retake the test.

Evan had taken Dr. Lee's advice, and tried out a few different sports. He had failed utterly at basketball, since he was "vertically challenged", but he had found several new friends in the wonderful sport of soccer, or as everyone else calls it, football. He had also found a love of Quodpot. He now had a Thunderclap 8, the best and most durable broom for the game. It had all the agility and speed of the new Nimbus 2000 racing broom, but all the strength needed for the higher-contact and higher-risk sport. He was on of the star players on the team due to his natural talent, even though nationally the school wasn't that high in the ranks. Evan was gaining some height, but it was fairly obvious to his parents that Evan had a short gene in him.

Now, at nearly eleven, Evan had friends, was involved in activities, and was finally starting to behave like a normal child. And, of course, he was reaching the age and was at the grade level that he was going to need "The Talk" soon. Neither parent wanted to do it, since they had no idea what to tell him. Should they talk to him about homosexuals too? He was mature enough that he knew sometimes men liked other men, and women liked other women, but they weren't sure of the extent they should go. They had monitored the books he had read, making sure he didn't get his hands on anything with the more teenager/ adult themes.

Taylor and Justin had finally come to the agreement that they should tell him before he went back to school that year. Evan's class load had, thankfully, dropped, especially considering the animagus class only met once a week. Next year, he would be taking Literature Composition & Critique, Truths and Non- Truths of Mythology, Algebra 2, and Honors Biology. He would also be taking Level 4 Defensive Magic, Transfiguration, and Potions. Adding to those necromancy and wandless magic, he would have a study hall period. For one quarter of the year, he would have a health class, hence the resolve to have "The Talk" before school started.

The end of July came too quickly. Evan had his birthday parties early, one for his friends from school, and one for his family. Taylor, as usual, took the day off to spend with his son on his eleventh birthday, and Justin could easily set aside his work. This year, Evan merely wanted to spend a quiet day at home. Which, in retrospect, was a good idea. The three Levey-Bensons had gone on a mid-morning trail ride, before the bugs were too awake and the sun too high. They were currently lounging on the front lawn. Wolfie was sleeping on the porch, and Justin was reading The Golden Compass out loud.

A shadow unexpectedly loomed over Evan's head. All three looked up, stunned to see a brown owl flying around the boy. The bird dropped an envelope from its claws onto his lap, vanishing quickly.

"Mr. H. Potter, The Front Lawn, #22 Daffodil Lane, Colebrook New Hampshire, 03576, U.S.A.," Evan read shakily. "No return address." He pulled the folded parchment from the envelope and read it to his parents.

"Mr. H. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please send a return owl by July 30.

Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

They sat in silence. "Where the hell is Hogwarts?" Taylor blurted. Justin smacked his arm. "Sorry."

Later that afternoon, Taylor set up a meeting with Principal Fitzgerald, to discuss this strange and vague letter.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you that Hogwarts is a terrible school, because I would be lying. The problem with it is that it is in the countryside of Scotland, very elite, and narrow minded." The principal stated.

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

"Well, the only way to get in is if your name was put on the list by a spell used to detect all witches and wizards born within a certain radius. They only have certain classes, and you have to conform to these classes for the first five years. They only have one sport, Quidditch. They don't teach any muggle subjects, and it's also a boarding school." Dr. Fitzgerald continued.

Evan frowned. "Only Quidditch? What about Quodpot? Or soccer?"

He smiled grimly. "They don't have them. Hogwarts is a part of the category of 'traditional' schools. They only have the basics, like transfiguration, potions, and so on. No necromancy, animagus classes, or non-magical classes. They believe in the complete separation of technology and magic."

Taylor and Justin looked at each other, shaking their heads. Evan was shocked. "No way would he survive without necromancy and Quodpot." Justin blurted.

Evan perked up. "Does this mean I don't have to go?"

Taylor grinned. "Exactly. Write a letter tonight and I'll drop it off at the post office tomorrow." Of course, he wasn't talking about the normal post office. Well, he was, but there was a magical division of nearly every post office in the country. All he had to do was put a special stamp on it, and they would send it out by owl post.

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, eating a lemon drop quite happily. He was awaiting the reply of his many students that would be joining Hogwarts in the fall. There was one reply in particular that he was anxious for. Harry Potter hadn't been seen by anyone in the wizarding world since he had been left on the doorstep of #4 Privet Drive. Although this concerned the Headmaster, as he had expected at least a sighting of the boy, he had sent the normal letter out.

A beautiful tawny owl swooped in through the window, a plain white envelope in its talons. He circled the room once, deposited the letter on the headmaster's desk, and flew out. With eager hands, the elderly wizard picked it up. Blue ink spelled out the words 'Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'.

He pried open the envelope, revealing a carefully penned letter on lined paper, clearly from a muggle-born.

When Severus Snape entered the Headmaster's office mere moments later, he found that Albus had buried his face in his hands. "Albus? What's the matter?"

All he did was slide the letter across the desk to Severus. Picking it up carefully, he read the note from the student, puzzled as to why a mere letter would affect the Headmaster so.

"Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

I would like to thank you for inviting me to your prestigious school.

While I am sure that you have an excellent program, I regret to inform you that

I am already enrolled in Salem Wizarding Academy, and I have been for some

time. Additionally, it seems impractical for me to attend a school in Scotland

while residing in the United States. My parents don't want me to be that far

from home for 9 months at a time. Again, thank you for the invitation, but I

will have to decline.

Thank you for your time,

Evan Levey- Benson, whom you may know better as Harry Potter"

Professor Snape smirked. It seemed he would have to re-evaluate his opinion of the Boy-Who-Lived. "One less brat for me to deal with."

Albus raised his head, twinkle gone from his eyes. "Severus, the boy was obviously kidnapped, and has been conditioned to behave this way! It's possible that he didn't even write this willingly." The elderly man was panicking; the savior of the wizarding world had been abducted, without him knowing until many years later.

Severus snorted. "Please. The brat is fine, undoubtedly. He's getting an education, and the schools in America are known for their high standards. It's not like you can steal him back. They've likely adopted him legally."

Albus, however, only paid attention to the first part of that phrase. He brightened immediately. "That's it! I'll go convince him to come here, and take him away from his kidnappers!"

Severus groaned. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Taylor was in the kitchen, washing the dishes. He was barefoot, still in his work clothes. Justin was in the living room with Evan, attempting to help him with his summer reading assignment. A knock at the front door startled them; Justin peeked out the shades to find the car that he hadn't heard pull up. He didn't see one. Frowning suspiciously, he told Evan to go to the kitchen to see if his Dad needed any help.

Still in his torn jeans and paint splattered t-shirt, he opened the door. The man in front of him was not what he expected. He looked to be in his eighties or nineties, with pure white hair and an extremely long beard. The suit he wore was pristine navy blue, with a bizarre kaleidoscope tie.

"Can I help you?"

He smiled in his best attempt to appear harmless. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I've come to discuss Harry's attendance at Hogwarts."

Keeping his frown, Justin crossed his arms. "I find it suspicious that the headmaster of a school all the way in Scotland cares enough about one student in America declining admission to come all the way here without warning."

Albus blinked. He had not expected to be met with such hostility. He tried to stay calm. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but you see, I was close with the Potters, and the last I heard was that Petunia, Harry's aunt, had taken him in."

Justin scoffed. "Well, obviously you were misinformed. He was taken to an orphanage the day after Halloween when he was one. His aunt didn't even keep him for a full day before leaving him somewhere else."

The wizard paled. The Dursleys had taken him to an orphanage? That meant he was completely unprotected! Kidnapped, the blood protection would have been greatly lessened, but they would have remained intact. Albus neglected to realize that this meant Harry's new guardians weren't kidnappers or miscreants, merely a caring couple. "My boy, young Harry needs to return to England immediately. He needs to be protected. I'm not sure how much you know of the situation-"

Justin cut him off. "First, I'm not 'your boy'. And Evan isn't going anywhere. He's perfectly safe and happy here, and for your information, I know all about what happened. I may not have magic, but I made damn sure to know what my son's life would be like. Evan sent you a letter. He doesn't want to go to your school, and he's already learning how to use his magic. So leave us alone." The artist slammed the door in the man's face and locked it. He went into the kitchen, where his partner and their son stood silently.

"Papa?" Evan asked tentatively.

Justin gave a shaky smile, trying to calm his artist's temper. "It's okay Evan. Just that Dumbledore man trying to convince me to send you to Hogwarts."

"And I'm sure you have your reasons for not wanting him to go, but I believe there are a few things you need to know." All three jumped, startled by the voice that had come from the man abruptly standing in their kitchen doorway.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Taylor snapped, moving to block Evan's view of the man instinctively. "Get out!"

The old man smiled benevolently. "My boy, I believe this is just a simple misunderstanding, and"

"Wolfgang!" Taylor called. The dog came barreling in. "Guard." Haunches raised, the Labrador stood in front of his family and growled at the stranger. Not many people knew that Taylor had trained his dog to be a guard dog on command.

Albus pulled his wand from his pocket. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but Stupefy!" A red light shot out of the wand towards the dog, making it fall to the ground, unconscious.

Evan yelped. He knew the spell was just a stunner, but still! It was his dog! Justin moved closer to Taylor, completely blocking Evan from view. "Get the hell out of our house before we call the cops." Taylor tried to remain stoic and commanding, but inside he was panicking about the safety of the two most important people in his life.

The wizard raised his wand again. "Petrificus-"

He didn't get the chance to finish the spell, as Evan screamed. "Get OUT!" Dumbledore stopped, shocked, as the eleven year old boy pushed out from between his parents, shaking with anger and fright.

"Harry my boy; you need to come with me. Hogwarts is the safest place for you, and you can learn all about your parents. They went there themselves, you know."

"No."

Albus, losing his patience, did something he would regret for a very long time. He reached forward to grab Evan's arm, to apparate him away. The boy shot out his hands and cried out.

"Protego Maximo!" An invisible force shoved Albus Dumbledore roughly. He tried to resists, but he was thrown from the house via the magically opened door and ended up in the driveway, suit covered in dirt. The door slammed shut behind him. Realizing he needed backup, he apparated away to the gates of Hogwarts.

Evan, adrenaline fading, collapsed against his Dad. That much wandless magic took quite a lot of strength, more than he would have had without his fear powering him. Relieved that the immediate threat was over, the family collapsed on the floor for a few minutes, trying to calm their hearts.

"I think I know where my fear of men with white hair and beards comes from." Evan muttered. "I think he's the one who left me on the doorstep. I don't know why, but I just get the feeling that he did."

Shortly thereafter, Justin called his sister, Christy, who was a lawyer. With Dr. Fitzgerald's help, she sent off a formal notice to the Headmaster, stating that he had two options: be brought to court or agree to never approach Evan again about going with him, no matter where it would be.

When Dumbledore received this notice, and shared it with his trusted potions master, Severus smirked. He enjoyed watching Albus suffer from the results of his master plans for "the greater good."

"Severus, I have a favor to ask of you," the old man pleaded.

He internally groaned. "What is it?"

And that is how Severus Snape came to be standing at the front door of the Levey-Benson house, having called ahead to schedule a meeting, carrying a parchment with the Headmaster's formal apology, and having been told what Albus wanted the family to agree to. Needless to say, the man was less than thrilled to be there.

The door opened promptly to his knock. "Can I help you?" the tall man with shaggy blonde hair asked.

The spy kept his face carefully blank. "My name is Severus Snape. May I assume that you are Mr. Levey-Benson?"

The doctor smiled. "Actually, I'm Dr. Levey-Benson, but you can call me Taylor. Please, come in." The potions master was led inside and seated on the couch. Justin and his sister were also there, but they had sent Evan to his room to protect him from another attempt to take him away.

Severus handed over the parchment scroll. "This is Dumbledore's formal apology for what occurred. He was," Severus couldn't hold back the small sneer, "concerned for the boy's welfare."

Justin frowned slightly. "You don't agree?"

The potions master snorted. "No, I don't. Its high time the fool realized he can't meddle in people's lives and expect them to turn out exactly the way he wants them to."

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Snape?" Christy asked calmly.

"He thought he could just leave the boy on a doorstep and his aunt would welcome him into the family, with naught but a letter to tell her that her sister was murdered." He took a sip of the water they had supplied. "He wanted me to try to negotiate with you, to allow the boy to attend Hogwarts."

Taylor and Justin shook their heads simultaneously. "That's not an option," the artist began. "Evan's already attending Salem Wizarding Academy. He's going into his fourth year."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Was the American system different? "Do you know the Hogwarts equivalent, year wise?"

"It's the same." Taylor stated. "Evan's advanced because of his power levels. Its tough, but he's managing."

At this point, the boy in question came sprinting down into the room. "Dad! Papa! Sasha's got an egg!" He stopped dead, realizing he had interrupted something. He flushed bright red. "Uh, sorry Dad, I didn't-"

"You know the rules, Evan." Taylor said sternly.

He sighed heavily, leaving the room. He turned at the entrance and walked back in. "Excuse me, Dad." He was not happy about the enforcement of this particular rule in front of a stranger. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yes."

"Sasha told me that she's got an egg!" he blurted in excitement. "Apparently her species can reproduce all by themselves, and so she's gonna have a baby soon!" He was practically jumping up and down.

His parents smiled. "That's great! Oh, Severus, this is Evan. Evan, this is Professor Severus Snape." Justin introduced. "He's a teacher at Hogwarts."

Evan gaped. "You wrote some of my textbooks!" The boy was in awe of the man who was an accomplished potions master as well as a master of the arts of wandless magic, occulmency, and legimency. "How did you come up with the idea of adding the powdered unicorn horn two clockwise stirs after adding the monkswood leaves instead of three counterclockwise stirs in the Skin Re-growth Potion to make it more potent?"

Severus was shocked. Here was the boy-who-lived, the son of his school arch enemy, the practical clone of the man; he was supposed to be a spoiled brat with no respect for him or his craft. Yet, he was asking a question about a potion he had altered, and wasn't in school curriculum until the fourth year of Hogwarts. "Experimenting," he finally managed to answer. "After theorizing based on arithmancy and other potions of similar natures." Seeing the boy's obvious disappointment, he elaborated. "The Skin Regrowth potion targets the proteins necessary for cell growth. It enhances the chemicals that trigger the growth, and some variations contain the chemicals themselves to replenish the body. Potions that deal with hormone replacement rather than enhancement have the potion stirred clockwise, not counter clockwise. Using arithmancy equations of equality and balancing, three counter clockwise stirs are equal to two clockwise stirs."

Evan nodded, thinking it over. "That makes sense." He suddenly shrunk back into himself, glancing nervously at his parents as he realized that this man, as amazing as he was at potions, was a stranger.

"He's here to try to convince us to send you to Hogwarts." Taylor explained.

"But I don't want to go! Elia would be all alone in class! And I'll be starting my apprenticeship soon! And I'll miss you!" He pleaded.

"Calm down, honey," Justin soothed, starting to stand. "We aren't going to make you go. We'd miss you too much."

Evan, close to tears, smiled. "Okay." He sniffled and hugged his father.

"Did you want to hear the rest of our talk, Evan?" Taylor asked quietly. "I don't think Severus will try what Dumbledore did."

Severus chuckled. "Oh yes, I heard what you did to him. That was an impressive amount of accidental magic, according to Dumbledore."

Evan snorted. "It wasn't accidental. I'm rather proficient at wandless magic. I've been training for three years."

When Severus Snape returned to Hogwarts several hours after the time Albus predicted, the Headmaster was astonished to see that Harry wasn't with him. He had thought that with the professor's obstinance, he wouldn't have taken no for an answer. That is, after all, why he sent Severus.

"My boy, what happened? Is Harry coming?"

Severus sneered at him. "Evan, as he prefers to be called, isn't coming. He is already attending an excellent school, and learning far more than what we offer here. He even mentioned he might take occulomency next year, if he has room for it!"

Dumbledore gaped. Had they somehow poisoned his professor's mind? "Severus, Harry needs to be here! He needs-"

"To stay right where he is!" Severus snarled. "He's obviously happy, powerful, and being given everything he needs. Leave him alone and stop your meddling." With that, the man stalked out of the office, robes billowing behind him.

As he walked down to his dungeon classroom to continue the organization of the storage cabinet, he pondered what made him defend the boy as he had.

Evan had impressed him. He was intelligent, polite, and most importantly, reminded Severus of Lily. He had envisioned the Potter brat being rash, troublesome, and bearing no semblance of manners whatsoever, exactly like his father. Certainly in a different environment, that could have happened. But the resemblance to Lily was his main source of begrudged respect, and it continued past the attitude. Evan had her eyes and her cheekbones. Give him red hair and take away his glasses, and he could be her twin brother.

Albus sat at his desk, staring at Fawkes. The phoenix was quiet, staring right back at him. "What went wrong?" The man asked himself. "How did he end up at an orphanage in the first place?" At this point, there was nothing left for him to do. He had read over American and British adoption laws, and the information he had, searching for a loophole. There wasn't one. The Levey-Bensons had made sure that everything was secure. The only hope he had of regaining control of Harry was Severus convincing him that he needed to stay at Hogwarts. Since that had failed, the Headmaster had no choice but to concede victory to the Americans, and leave them alone.


	8. Chapter 8: They Grow Up So Fast

_**VERY IMPORTANT:**_

_So, I'm going through some mega emotional stress right now. I have to find someone to take care of my horse for me while I'm away at college, and so far I'm not having any luck. He's an affectionate Quarter Horse cross, trained in English and we think in Western. He would make a good trail horse too. Please send me a message if you know of someone who might want to lease him! Oh, and I live in New Hampshire, and I would prefer he stay in state. Thanks everyone! _

_Aeryn59- yes indeed, that is the pairing. Good job. _

_Many thanks again to my darling beta and friend, Lindsey. She's also just starting college, and yet is still helping me edit. _

**Chapter Eight: They Grow Up So Fast**

Evan stood in the middle of the stone room. A circle of white chalk was in front of him, formed by necromantic protection runes. This was one of the more basic necromantic rituals, the Summoning of Souls. Evan's palms were sweaty, and his hands were trembling. His stomach was in knots. This was one of his many tests during his apprenticeship, but that was not the reason for his nerves either. He was going to be calling the spirits of his birth parents.

The reason this particular ritual was deemed necromantic and dark was the potential outcome. A strong necromancer could bring back someone from the dead. Of course, the only way to do this would be for the necromancer to provide a fresh body for the soul and sacrifice their own life energy, but it was still a possibility. Evan's power could be tested by using this ritual, as sustaining a soul's presence in the living world causes a steady drain of magic.

Evan began to chant, and draw the last of the runes around the circle. He stood back, channeling his magic into the now-glowing runes. Two forms slowly rose from the ground, shaping out to form two semi-solid forms. One was a tall man, with messy black hair and blue eyes. The other was a willowy woman, with red hair and startling green eyes. They were vaguely transparent, but otherwise fully formed. Tense, Evan swallowed. "Please state your names."

"Lily Violet Potter."

"James Daniel Potter." Both looked mildly confused. "What exactly are we doing here?"

Evan blushed a little bit. "I'm Evan Levey-Benson. I'm apprenticing to be a Necromancer, and this is one of the tests that I have to do."

Lily frowned. "Why summon us? And aren't you a bit young to have an apprenticeship? Necromancy is rather dark magic."

Evan shrugged, deciding to answer in reverse, so that he could prolong the wait for why he summoned them. "Well, it's only classified as dark magic in the U.K. Since we're in the U.S., it doesn't matter. And I started school a couple of years early because of my power level, so that's why I'm younger than others."

James narrowed his eyes. "Why did you summon us? Of all people?"

Evan looked down, steeling himself. When he looked up again, he met James' eyes levelly. "Because I wanted to meet my birth parents."

They didn't get it right away. "Then why…" Lily gasped. "Oh Merlin."

"What?!" James asked.

Lily had tears in her

"What?!" James asked.

Lily had tears in her eyes. "James, its Harry. Our baby."

James stared at his son. Evan stared right back. "But why is your name different, then? Did you lie about it?"

Evan shook his head. "No, it's my legal name. I was adopted when I was three, and the orphanage didn't know my real name. The only identification I had when I was left there was a slip of paper saying I was Evan Jameson. Not even my birthday. I didn't know my real name until I started going to SWA and read a book about myself."

James growled. "Who left you at the orphanage? You were supposed to go to Sirius!"

Evan frowned. "You mean Sirius Black? He's in Azkaban prison, for his part in your murder and for killing Peter Pettigrew along with 13 muggles. Why would you want me to be taken to him? He may have been your friend, but didn't you realize that the only way Voldemort would have found you was if he gave up your location?"

James and Lily gaped. "But Sirius didn't know where we were! He wasn't our Secret Keeper! Peter was." Lily explained.

"Go to Albus Dumbledore. He'll set things straight."

"No!" Evan nearly shouted. "He's the one who left me at my aunt and uncle's. They dumped me at the orphanage. He broke into our house and tried to kidnap me! He stunned Wolfie when all he was doing was protecting us. I don't like him."

James frowned at him. Lily simply blinked. "Albus left you at your aunt and uncle's? You mean Petunia and Vernon?"

Evan nodded. "Yup. And I'm glad they brought me to the orphanage, 'cause that's where my parents found me."

"Who adopted you, Harry?" James asked his son. "And why do you have an American accent?"

Evan grinned. "Because I grew up here in America. Justin and Taylor Levey-Benson are my parents." His smile weakened as he remembered that they might not approve of the fact that his parents were both male.

"Taylor is an odd name for a woman." James remarked.

Evan turned pink. "He's not a woman. I have two fathers."

Silence took over the room. "What?" Lily whispered.

The boy nodded. "Taylor's a pediatrician, and Justin's an artist. They taught me how to read and draw and ride horses and they're letting me go to Salem for school instead of Hogwarts, and I'm taking necromancy and art and all this awesome stuff, and Dad lets me ride with him on his bike, and-"

He rambled on and on about his life, wanting his birth parents to know he was happy with his Papa and his Daddy. He told them about his creative writing class, advanced algebra, chemistry, potions, transfiguration, defensive magic, his apprenticeship in necromancy, his wandless magic, knowing his animagus form, Quodpot, soccer, his friends, and all the cool stuff that his parents did with him.

The Potters stood there quietly, watching their son until he stopped rambling. James was grinning, Lily mirroring his look. "You babble just like Lils does when she's nervous."

Evan ducked his head in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"It's adorable." Finished James. "Now, tell me more about this Quodpot."

After nearly an hour of further discussion, Evan began to feel a little tired, from emotional stress or magical drain. He wasn't exactly sure, but he cut the connection just to be safe. After he said goodbye, of course.

"You passed with flying colors." Vincent Pierce (Master Necromancer) stood in the doorway, grinning, in his familiar neon green t-shirt and black pants. "How do you feel?"

Evan shrugged. "Fine. A little tired, but more affected by the information than the actual ritual, I think."

The grin faded from his face. "Yeah, I overheard that. Azkaban is a nasty place, especially for the innocent."

The 12-year-old sighed, burdened by his maturity. "What do I do, Vince?"

He clapped a large hand to the boy's shoulder. "Tell your parents. Write a letter to someone in the American government. They'll give the information to someone who can talk to the British Ministry of Magic about getting him freed or at the very least get him a fair trial."

"How do I do that without telling them who I am, and why I summoned them?"

Vince had found out about Evan's true identity a couple of years ago, when Evan had to do a project to determine why he has an affinity for death. "Good question. You can always say that you were also doing a history project, and therefore thought of killing two birds with one stone."

Two Months Later

Vince thrust a wizarding newspaper, _The Boston Cauldron_, under Evan's nose when he came into the room. He was grinning. "It worked."

Evan looked at the headline. "Sirius Black Found Innocent. Manhunt begins!" He quickly read the article. "So Pettigrew faked his own death?"

The necromancer smirked. "Yup. And, as you requested, the only mention of where they got the tip about Black is when they say a necromancer-in-training summoned the Potters for a project."

It was now summer again, and Evan had just barely turned 13. Justin was taking him to magical Boston for a shopping trip, as Evan needed school supplies and a few other odds and ends. Justin had heard about magical paints from one of the other parents, and wanted to look into it further.

Evan, of course, had to stop in to see Jean. After a brief greeting, for Jean was talking to a tall couple with brilliantly blonde hair, Evan went off in search of one of the books Vince had suggested, Occulomency For Beginners. The aisle he went to had another boy in it, blonde, who looked very familiar. He was about the same age as Evan, and was searching for a book. He barely glanced up at Evan. Scanning the shelves, the green-eyed boy found his book and just as he gripped it, a pale hand did the same. It was the last copy. Evan fought off a blush as he turned to face the boy, a hand still on the book. "I found it first, to be perfectly fair."

The boy glared at him. "After looking for three seconds! I've been looking for this book for twenty minutes!" Evan blinked at the boy's heavy British accent. Evan yanked the book out from the shelf, clutching it childishly to his chest.

"Its mine. Jean will surely get another copy soon."

Just as childishly, the slightly taller boy reached out to grab the book from him. Evan took a step backwards just as the blonde stepped forward, his foot catching on a stool, sending both boys to the ground. Green eyes stared up at impossibly close gray-blue eyes. His stomach began tingling strangely, and his cheeks began to flush.

The blonde boy was in a similar predicament. He raised one hand, from where it had been between them, to brush the other boy's cheek. He smiled shyly, recognizing those beautiful green eyes. "You're that boy from the art gallery a few years ago," he murmured in his British accent. "The one in the paintings."

Evan blinked, remembering the blonde boy who had waved at him. "You remember that?" His face was getting redder by the second. The blonde was still on top of him.

"Yeah, I-"

"Draco! What in Merlin's great beard is going on here?" A strong male voice thundered. The boy jolted upwards and off of Evan, immediately reaching down to help him up.

"I apologize, Father." The boy, apparently named Draco, had changed entirely. His back was straight, face blank, and most disturbingly, eyes cold. "I lost my balance."

His father's reply hit Evan like an exploding Quod in the face. "Then you will just have to have an additional two hours of posture training, to correct this. Malfoys do not lose their balance, especially in the presence of plebeians."

Evan didn't know what to do. This boy, who had seemed so warm mere moments ago, was now as cold as the man in front of him.

"Did you at least find your book?"

Draco glanced over at Evan, who still had the book clutched with one arm to his chest. His eyes softened slightly. "No Father. It seems they have run out of it."

"Wonderful," the man drawled. "We can leave this horrendous place." He turned swiftly and stalked off, expecting Draco to follow.

The blonde boy smiled sadly at the other. "Sorry. I've got to go. Would you," he blushed slightly. "Would you write me?"

Evan blushed too, ducking his head. "Okay. What's your address?"

"Just send an owl to me at Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. But in two weeks I'll be at Hogwarts."

"Draco!" He paled at the angry voice.

"I better go. Bye!"

"Bye!"

With that, the boy was gone, leaving Evan blushing, and clutching his book. Justin came into the aisle, frowning. "The Malfoys are not nice people," he muttered. "You find your book, sweetie?" He noticed his son's red cheeks. "Honey?"

Evan looked at his feet. "That boy, Draco…" His cheeks were burning. "I like him. He's cute," he whispered.

Justin blinked. And blinked again. Then what his son said finally kicked in and he grinned. "You've hit puberty!"

Later that afternoon, Evan related the entire story to both of his parents, ending with "and he made my penis feel funny," in his matter of fact way.

Justin and Taylor gaped, and looked at each other. "He's definitely hit puberty." Justin sighed.

"Is this the first time you've… thought this way about a boy?" Taylor questioned, face tinged red.

Evan shrugged. "I guess. There are some boys at school that are sorta nice looking, but Draco was…" the normally articulate thirteen-year-old was at a loss for words.

Justin practically squealed. His boy had his first crush. But wait…was his son gay, or was he merely following his parents, because he thought it was what was expected from him? "Have you felt this way about any girls before?"

Evan blushed. "No. Girls confuse me too much. They say one thing, and mean another. Boys are much easier to get along with."

Justin and Taylor smiled at this. They had been hoping, in a way, that their son was straight, simply because life would be so much easier for him if he was. Even though the magical world was fairly open, the non-magical world still had progress to make. Taylor had to take Justin to Canada for their marriage, and the battle for gay rights was still a long one. The only real negative to Evan's crush was that Draco lived in England. It's not as if Evan would be able to see him again any time soon. Intercontinental travel was tricky with magic, especially considering the time change. It required a special, rather expensive Floo Powder, or a slightly less expensive Port-A-Train. Portkeys were widely scoffed at as being unnecessarily clumsy. Apparition between continents was not possible.

"Did you get his number or address? So you can keep in touch?"

Evan smiled shyly. "I don't think he has a phone, but he told me where he lives."

Even though it would only be in letters, Evan was reluctant to write to the blonde boy he had met by accident on two separate occasions. It was hard to believe that Evan's shy nature shadowed his written social life as well as his verbal, but it was true. He was too nervous to initiate contact with Draco, who had been so arrogant when demanding that the book was his. What if the hurried address and welcome of letters was a quickly forgotten whim? What if the boy had forgotten his name and existence entirely? Evan, blushing a brilliant red, gave in two weeks later and asked his Papa for advice.

Justin didn't know what to say. The Malfoys had been just as arrogant as they had been years ago when they tried to buy his personal painting, and they had probably taught their son to be the same way. But Draco had been blushing too, when his father had interrupted their 'moment'. Of course, Evan was too young to even think of having longer and more significant 'moments', but Justin was worried all the same. Reluctantly, the artist told Evan to write Draco a brief letter, concise yet open.

And that's what he did. At least, that's what he intended to do. His brief letter became a rather long babbling.

"Dear Draco,

You probably forgot all about me, since you told me to write just as an offhand thing. You didn't really have time to let me introduce myself. My name is Evan Levey-Benson. I live in New Hampshire, and go to Salem Wizarding Academy in Boston. I'm going to start my sixth year soon. My classes are really fun. I'm taking Potions, Experimental Transfiguration, Defense, and a whole lot more. What subjects are you taking? I do martial arts too, and I'm on the Quodpot and soccer teams. Well, you call it football over there, but it's the same thing. Do you play any sports?

I know that you wanted to read Occulomency For Beginners, but why? Are you taking an occulomency class? I know I will be. I finally have enough room in my schedule to take it, now that I'm done with Arithmancy. I mean, it was a cool class, but I'm glad it's done with.

What type of school do you go to? I think you mentioned that you went to a boarding school, but what type? Is it big, small, is it an all boys school? Mine is. An all boys school, that is. There's a partner school now. It was built right after the women's rights movement over here, to allow witches to study in a group environment, rather than the homeschooling that was the system previously.

Do you read much? I read a lot. I like non-magical fiction, mostly, but there are some fantasy authors I can't resist! Especially the books by Tamora Pierce. I've tried incorporating some of the magical theories in books into my research, especially in my experimental transfiguration class, but it's been mostly unsuccessful. I've been talking to Dr. Fitz about it (that's my principal), and he says that some books magical theories are based a little bit on old Celtic magics, back before we used wands. It's really an interesting topic. I might try to study it when I go to college. I don't know if it's common in England, but most students over here go there after finishing regular schooling, to start on our Masteries, and to get more knowledge about what we want to do. I'm already starting on my mastery of Necromancy. I'm apprenticed to Vince, the teacher here, and he lets me teach the first level kids the basics. It's really fun! I'm actually considering being a teacher because of it. I like helping them. What do you want to do, or do you not have any idea? It doesn't matter if you don't, according to the career counselor at SWA. Especially because we're only 13. When we're older, like 18, we should have a better idea of what to do with our lives. Of course, I'm going to have to start thinking about it soon, because I'm on my second to last year of schooling before I go to college. I skipped a few grades.

I love horseback riding. Have you ever been? It's amazing. We own three horses, Ardeth, Imohtep, and Rick O'Connell. My Papa is a bit of a Mummy fan. I ride Ardeth the most, and my parents usually switch between riding Rick and Imohtep. If you can, you should come visit and we can go riding together. My Papa knows the best trails, because of his photography. We have a dog named Wolfgang, and a few stray barn cats too. We didn't bother getting an owl or a bird of any kind for me once I started school, since the post office is so much easier. Do you have an owl? What's your favorite type of animal?

What's your favorite color? Mine is blue. What's your favorite food? What do you like to do in your spare time?

Sorry if I've annoyed you with all of my questions, but I don't really know anything about you. If you don't want to write back, because you've forgotten that you told me to write, or changed your mind, I understand.

(Hopefully) Your friend,

Evan Levey-Benson."

It took Draco two weeks to send a response, but it was delivered directly to Evan's house by a beautiful black raven. It flew in through an open window, around four in the afternoon, carrying a rather heavy looking envelope, and dropped it in Evan's lap. The bird then landed on the close by table, clearly waiting for a response. Evan beamed. He sprinted up to his room with the letter and carefully opened it. Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't written at all.

"Dear Evan,

Of course I remember you. A Malfoy always remembers when he extends his hand in friendship. Where is New Hampshire? American geography wasn't a subject my tutors deemed important. I had tutors before I went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I wanted to go to Durmstrang, but Mother convinced Father that it was too far away. Hogwarts is one of the best wizarding schools in the world, and extremely selective. Why, when you are _born_ you are put on this list, unless you don't register. It is simply not a school you apply to. And of course, the Malfoys have been going to Hogwarts since it was built. My Father holds a rather important position in the Ministry as well as being a member of the school board, so he has quite the reputation and power within the school.

My godfather is teaching me occulomency. My father says that it is vital for any upstanding young man to learn how to block his mind from prying fools. It is hardly a subject that can be taught in a normal setting. It needs to be done in a one to one environment, or it will just be a waste of time. You should consider having your parents get you a tutor.

As for literature, my father says that it is drivel, and a waste of parchment. I am partial to some fiction writing, but muggle literature is far inferior to that of us magical folk. Honestly! Trying to use muggle theories in real magic? Are you trying to blow yourself up? Muggles have no idea what they're talking about. My father has met and had to deal with several muggles, and has had a terrible time understanding their horrible speech patterns and uncultured mannerisms.

My father is training me to go into politics, of course. That's the only real way to make a name for yourself. Merlin! How many levels have you skipped? I'm going into fourth year next term. Just how much do your parents teach you at home? We have several horses, all registered Hanoverians. I don't know their names. I don't ride any of them. They pull our carriage, and gallop around the field beautifully, though. Sometimes I see the grooms riding them for exercise, though. Dogs are too messy to have around the house, and my mother is allergic to cats. That's why my father got rid of the Kneazle I got for my birthday one year. I don't have an owl, but I do have a raven, the one who delivered this to you. He was specially trained, as ravens don't usually deliver mail. He was very expensive, but Father got him for me anyway. My favorite type of animal is probably a ferret. They're so graceful, but Father calls them vermin, so he won't even let me go near the cages any more.

My favorite color is green. I don't really have a favorite food, but I am rather fond of escargot. In my spare time, I go flying. I have a Nimbus Two-Thousand and One, but I'm trying to get Father to buy me the brand new Firebolt that came out recently. Do you fly for fun often? What type of broom do you have?

It's not a bother at all. It's been quite enjoyable, writing you this letter.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy. P.S. Malfoys don't have friends."

The young American hesitated slightly, but wrote an immediate response back, telling Draco off for being an 'arrogant asshole'.

Draco's reply was a bit harsh as well, ranting at Evan for daring to lecture him. However, he was forced to concede when Evan threatened to stop writing entirely if Draco didn't shape up.

He slowly began writing more and more personal letters to the American, and less about his father's views, but he and Evan actually discussed and deliberated over the truth of many of these opinions.

"My parents are muggles. They can't teach me things at home, other than helping me with theories and my regular subjects, like math and science."

"Then how are you so advanced?"

"I was visited when I was seven about my accidental magic. Dad was very logical about it, but Papa was a bit more amazed and excited."

"You have two fathers? But how were you born, then? Male pregnancy potions are only in the early stages of research."

"I was adopted. My parents let me start school early, so that's why I'm ahead of my age."

Over the next school year, Evan and Draco exchanged probably hundreds of letters, disproving many of Lucius Malfoy's theories and having Draco form his own. Draco was also being taught through Evan advanced spells and potions beyond his level. He was able to understand most of them, but he didn't dare attempt them by himself, lest he be asked how he learned it in the first place. Draco also shared a great many things with Evan about his schooling, and about Hogwarts in general.

In the first year, on Halloween, a troll had broken into the school and gravely wounded a first year girl, who spent a great deal of time at St. Mungo's to recover, but was able to return by Christmas. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a skittish and stuttering professor, who was found dead near the end of the year in the third floor corridor of the school.

Second year, there were rumors of a secret chamber designed by one of the founders. Students were getting petrified by someone (or something) and it was supposedly the Heir of the founder. The youngest Weasley girl was taken into the secret chamber, and was rescued by her brother and one of his friends, Neville Longbottom. She was found in a coma near a possessed diary, and very nearly died. The diary was destroyed in a vat of acid. The Defense teacher last year was exposed as a fraud in a dueling club he had created when he miscast a disarming spell and removed all the bones in Professor Flitwick's arm.

This year, the teacher had actually been competent, and nothing untoward had happened, other than the minor fact that his assistant was the former Azkaban prisoner Sirius Black. Since he got sick so often, Dumbledore had let him have an assistant to take over during his illness, so they weren't behind. Amazingly, both men had taught them well, and Draco was actually looking forward to that class next year, as they had agreed to go on another year.

Evan was amazed that so many accidents had happened at the school. It was almost as if someone was targeting the students. But why would they do that? In turn, Evan detailed Draco on his past years of schooling, and in doing so had to explain the entire magical system of America, with the FBMI, MAD, FMD, the schedule at SWA and SAW, and all of the differing classifications of restricted magics. (_See below for abbreviation reminder.)_ Together, the boys had worked out that Draco would be getting a better education at SWA.

It was during one letter in particular that Draco brought up the sensitive topic of attraction. "This stupid girl, Pansy, is under the impression that we're dating, and that she's destined to marry me! It's ridiculous. Even if I was into girls, she would be last on my list of who I wanted to snog."

"Wow, that's a bit harsh. But I agree. I mean, with the whole not liking girls thing. They look too…. Squishy." Evan had replied, terrified that Draco would think that statement weird, but he made no remark about it.

By the end of the school year, Draco decided he desperately wanted three things to happen that summer. One: see Evan. Two: see Evan play Quodpot. Three: see Evan's room, which had been described to him and sounded amazing. The common theme in these plans, or the object of his desires, was just that. Draco had developed a minor (major, really) crush on his American friend.

Unbeknownst to Draco, Evan had formed a crush on him as well. Of course, he had a crush on the boy before they started writing, but that was beside the point. They tried to make plans to see each other, but Draco's parents would have none of it.

"Mother, please! I've been writing him all year," Draco pleaded with his mother.

Narcissa Malfoy frowned. "Absolutely not, Draco. It's too far away. You know I like having you nearby. Your father didn't exactly approve of the boy, either." She knew, in her heart, that it would be good for him to go. But she also knew that Lucius would think the boy was getting soft, and would refuse just to harden him against the world. Narcissa was no idiot. She knew that her husband had played a part in the Dark Lord's diary reaching Hogwarts. She didn't want her son to grow up to be a vindictive, cruel man like his father, so she smothered him in affection every opportunity she had. Her husband thwarted numerous efforts on her part, and she feared that his attitude reversed many of the things she thought she had permanently instilled into Draco.

Draco remained ignorant of his father's manipulations, and continued writing to his best friend every day.

It wasn't long into the summer break that a disturbing headline made its way into magical newspapers across the world.

"Durmstrang Under Investigation, Karkaroff Arrested!

Early yesterday morning, the International Federation of Magical Beings received an anonymous tip that Durmstrang Academy students were being taught how to inflict all three Unforgivable Curses, as well as a number of other internationally banned spells. Igor Karkaroff, the Headmaster, was brought in for questioning, and later arrested on multiple charges, the details of which remain unknown. For the duration of the investigation, Durmstrang is closed to all students. As such, they will be unable to participate in the rumored upcoming reinstatement of the Triwizard Tournament."

Not a week later, Principal Fitzgerald received a letter from the IFMB that would change Evan's life as he knew it.

Abbreviation Key:

FBMI- Federal Bureau of Magical Investigations

MAD- Muggle Affairs Department

FMD- Federal Magic Database

SWA- Seriously? Do you have to check? It's Salem Wizarding Academy!

SAW- Okay, I can understand not knowing this one. Salem Academy for Witches.

IFMB- International Federation of Magical Beings (I figured this was more universal and PC than International Federation of Wizards. This way, it encompasses magical creatures as well.)


	9. Chapter 9: You Want to do WHAT?

_Okay, to clear up some confusion:_

_Sakura Lisel- Sirius isn't hunting down Harry because he trusts Dumbledore. Dumbledore has told him that Harry is safe, and with a family that loves him. He can't tell Sirius where Harry is, or who adopted him because of something that I write about in this chapter. Sirius and Remus both think that Dumbledore is controlling who looks after Harry, and therefore they are not searching. I'll get into the details of it better later on._

_RRW- I couldn't agree more. Don't worry; they'll get a nice culture shock pretty soon._

_I'm really sorry for the lateness of this update. I recently finished my first semester of college (yay! I survived!), and I'm due to start back soon. I've had a few issues with adjusting, and had some roommate problems which are not really helping my state of mind. Also, I've had to switch betas for this fic. I have lost contact with my previous beta, Lindsey. She is extremely busy with college, and can't fit in her betaing duties any more. So, my friend Jessie (beta of A Sudden Leap and Drowning Your Sorrows) has agreed to beta this for me as well. She's my savior! I'm not sure when my next update will be, as Drowning Your Sorrows is due for an update next, and I am nowhere near done with that chapter. _

_Enjoy. _

**Chapter Nine: You Want To Do WHAT?**

It was a highly unusual request, to have a massive assembly with all parents of students in sixth year and up. It was even more unusual for it to take place in the summer time barely a month after school was let out.

"Alright, everyone! Quiet down," Principal Fitzgerald called out to the auditorium. "I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here," he continued once they obeyed. "Durmstrang Academy was recently shut down due to illegal practices. The IFMB has recently contacted me to request that SWA attends the Triwizard Tournament in Durmstrang's place."

The auditorium erupted with noise. Protests were shouted from every corner, and the parents who were muggles were just confused.

"QUIET!" The principal was ignored. So, he levitated his chair to the ceiling and let it drop. The resounding crash startled everyone into silence. "That's better." Ignoring the mess he created, he continued. "The Triwizard Tournament is a centuries old tradition. The three oldest and supposedly best European magic schools gather together in a competition. Usually, that means Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Academy, and Beauxbaxton Academy. Each time the tournament takes place, one of the three schools is the host school. This time, it is Hogwarts that will be housing the tournament. One student is selected from each school to compete by an ancient spell designed to find the best candidate. There are three tasks, and each one is dangerous. Now, the only way that I would agree to this is if there was a grade restriction and also parental permission for each student going. For those who do not get selected, only a week would be spent away from the school. The Champion selected from SWA would stay at Hogwarts with a teacher as a chaperone until the end of the competition in the spring. He or she would be expected to keep up with the course work and maintain their grades through a mail in program that we have already designed. Additionally, only students with a cumulative GPA of 2.8 or higher will be able to go. Questions?"

"How dangerous is this tournament, exactly?" A parent near the front asked.

Principal Fitzgerald hesitated. "In the past, students who have participated have been gravely injured. A few have died, but this was centuries ago. The tournament used to be held every five years, but it was stopped several decades ago. Hundreds of new restrictions were put in place to prevent any such injuries, and to satisfy the requirements of the IFMB. There's the grade restriction, parental consent, automatic monitoring and shielding charms, strict rules for task selection, and so on. Next."

"Who would the chaperone be?" Justin shouted out.

"Depends on the student. A teacher of the same gender will be the chaperone, and they will volunteer once the selection is made. I don't want a teacher as a chaperone who doesn't know the student well. I will also be at Hogwarts for the tasks themselves as a judge."

A woman in the front stood. "When is the selection?"

"October. All those who want to compete will leave the 23, and the ones not selected will return the next week."

"Where is Hogwarts?" Someone from the back yelled.

"Scotland. Very remote area." He paused, glancing around the room. "Any more questions? No? Okay. If you think of anything else, feel free to call or email me. All my contact info is on the school website. I'll be sending out the formal invitations and permission slips later in the week. Have a good night!"

Once Taylor and Justin returned from the meeting, they sat Evan down to tell him about the tournament.

"But it's at Hogwarts." Evan frowned.

"Yeah," Taylor sighed. "But we did have Dumbledore sign that magical contract, so that he would leave you alone." The contract in question stated that Dumbledore could not disclose to anyone or anything Evan's true name and identity, among other things.

Evan brightened. He had forgotten about that contract. "So does that mean you'll let me go?"

Justin and Taylor exchanged a look. "We have to talk about it." Justin delayed.

"But we might impose some rules for you if you do go." Taylor interjected.

The doctor and the artist spent three whole days agonizing over whether they should sign that permission slip or not. Their major concern was Evan's happiness, especially if he was selected. He had never spent longer than a couple of days away from home at a time, and he hadn't exactly had a great time.

By the time the permission slip arrived in the mail, Taylor and Justin had made a decision.

"Thank- you- thank- you- thank- you!" Evan cheered, racing around the kitchen, much reminiscent of his childhood. He was absolutely beaming.

"Remember though, we do have a few conditions, if you do get selected."

"What?" he asked, suspicious.

"You have to write at least once a week, detailed letters, keep up with your grades, and eat your vegetables." Taylor lectured.

Evan giggled. "Dad! I'll only be gone a week. I'm only going to be 14 when the spell chooses. Why would it choose me?" His bright green eyes were sparkling. "It'll be a vacation! And I'll get to see Draco again!" Evan had to hold back a squeal of pure joy. His crush on the British teen had grown to near hero- worshipping, and would likely grow even more after they spent a week together.

It took all of Evan's self restraint to not blab to Draco about his upcoming trip to Hogwarts. None of the students knew yet, unless their parents worked in the Ministry and had told them. The general populace wouldn't find out until September 1st. Evan didn't know yet whether the secretive Headmaster would tell them the names of the two competing schools or not, so he wouldn't know until he got a letter from Draco. But until then, he had to read over each and every letter he sent, to make sure there was no mention of the event.

Near the end of the summer, Draco began to rave about Quidditch. He was the Seeker for his house team, and had led them to win the Quidditch Cup the past two years. So he pretty much knew what he was talking about when it came to the sport. His father had gotten tickets for the World Cup match, and Draco was naturally ecstatic. Bulgaria and Ireland were playing, and Draco's idol, Victor Krum, was the Seeker for Bulgaria.

"I still don't get the point of the Batters, or whatever you call them. The flying cannonballs just make the game more distracting. I really need to play a game of Quodpot with you. It's so much simpler. And I mean, it's got explosives! Soccer is less complicated than this sport of yours, and that's saying something."

"What is it with Americans and blowing stuff up? And they're Beaters. The Bludgers make it more dangerous- and gives the Seekers something to watch other than a tiny shiny speck. What the bloody hell is 'soccer'? You've got me wanting to learn how to play Quodpot and this 'soccer', and how to ride horses."

Harry didn't get another letter from Draco until two days after the Quidditch World Cup fiasco made the headlines. The entire time he was biting his nails, figuratively, from worry.

"Sorry about the delay. My father was…detained at the Cup. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm doing fine, so you can stop biting your nails now. The match was brilliant, you know! I wish you could have been there."

It was now September 2. Saturday. Evan had gotten up early, knowing that a letter would be coming from Draco. He was terrified that Draco would be angry with him for not telling him, for lying to him, and would stop writing entirely.

"Evan Levey-Benson! Did you know that your school was coming to Hogwarts?!" Draco's voice came tumbling out of the envelope the moment it was opened. It must have been enchanted with a version of the charm used to make a Howler. "The Triwizard Tournament!" Draco went on and on, Evan only catching parts of it. He was lost in the soft British tones and cultured, crisp words.

"I'm sorry Draco!" he wrote back. "I wasn't allowed to tell. You heard about the grade restriction, right? Well, since I'm in Year 7 this year, I get to go! So, even if I don't get in, I still get to spend a week with you! Isn't that great?"

Draco, however, was less than thrilled. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this tournament is? People have died! Why would you want to risk your life like that?" Evan could practically hear the worry through the written words. "Why are your fathers letting you?! Merlin, Evan! This is the stupidest idea you've ever had!"

Evan _might_ have squealed a bit when he realized how worried Draco was for him. Draco was so flustered that he even made up a word! "Draco, stop worrying and think positively. I'm only 14. What are the chances of me actually being picked?"

A week into school, Evan turned in the permission slip and other paperwork he needed to go to the Tournament. That was when he was handed a piece of paper that he needed all of his teachers to sign that stated that they thought he could handle missing months of actual classroom time if he did get in.

His last period of the day was set aside for his necromancy apprenticeship. "Vince?" Evan cringed. "Would you sign this for me?"

The tall necromancer grinned. "Sure, kiddo. What is it?" He read the offered paper quickly, his face falling into blankness. "The Triwizard Tournament, huh? Do you want the glory or the prize money?"

Evan crinkled his nose in disgust. "Neither." He rushed on, desperate to convince his mentor. "It'll be a challenge, and it'll give me a chance to see the school I almost went to. And I made friends with someone who goes there, so I'll be able to see him."

Vince's face lightened considerably. "Good for you. Just so ya know, if ya do get in, I'm gonna be your chaperone."

Evan beamed. "Awesome! I was so scared that you'd be mad at me for wanting to go." He took back the now signed paper, noticing the handwritten note Vince had just added. "But I doubt I'll get in. Almost all of the kids in my year are going, and a lot of sixth year too. It'll be really tough."

His teacher smirked at him. "But no one else has an apprenticeship with me, now do they?" Inwardly, he was wondering how Evan could have such a skewed perspective of his abilities. There was modesty, and then there was not knowing your own talents.

Before anyone knew it, it was October 23rd. The students and Dr. Fitzgerald were going to be leaving at precisely nine o'clock the next morning, and they had to be at the school by eight thirty. That meant leaving the house at six o'clock to make it on time. None of the three were very happy about it, but at least it was a Saturday, so neither of the elder Levey-Bensons had to work that day. All three were attempting to pack Evan's things for a week, since Evan was trying to bring his entire closet of books and sketchpads. They had decided he would bring his cell phone (one of the amazingly small newer models), so that he could keep in touch with his parents, despite the five hour time difference. He had a pair of black dress pants, two pairs of jeans, a pair of khakis, four nice shirts, three okay shirts, and other essential clothing items. He packed his school bag with all of the necessary items before casting a lightening charm on it.

"We'll send you more stuff if you get into the tournament, okay sweetie?" Justin was trying to hold it together, and Taylor was doing the same. Both were scared for their son, and worried about the next time they would see him. This was the whole reason they hadn't considered different schools, as most of the other options were boarding schools.

Evan, however, was beyond excited to be going to Scotland to see Draco, even if it was only for a week. To him, it would be only a week. It was simply unfathomable that he would be selected to actually compete. His parents knew better. They couldn't help but think of how he was three years ahead of others his age, even with the other advanced students at SWA. He was in the highest level classes offered at SWA, not to mention the fact that he was apprenticed to a Master Necromancer. It was very likely indeed that Evan would be selected to compete, and they wouldn't see their baby until Christmas. There was also the threat of Dumbledore. They were aware of the possibility that the manipulative wizard would do his best to keep Evan at Hogwarts, even if it meant rigging the selection process. They had warned Dr. Fitzgerald of this possibility, but he had assured them that he had a part in the selection process, and would make sure that nothing was tampered with.

Evan had insisted they say their goodbyes at the house, and merely drop him off at the school, so they didn't embarrass him in front of the older boys. So that resulted in a bit of a crying marathon in the morning. Taylor, it seemed, when coffee deprived was extremely emotional. After chugging nearly half a pot, he was much less weepy, at least outwardly. Justin managed to compose himself much better. Neither could stop hugging their son, not that he minded. The weight of the situation had overwhelmed him last night, and he wouldn't admit it, but he had cried himself to sleep.

He had always been a bit clingy, and it became more prominent as they finished packing the car, when it sank in that he would be thousands of miles away from his parents. They were taking the rarely used truck, as the other two cars were in the shop for inspection. This meant that Evan was squished between his two parents, and he was quite content. As usual, he fell asleep almost instantly, and slept solidly throughout the drive. As was routine, Justin shook him gently awake when they were a couple of miles away from the school.

"Evan, sweetie. Wake up. We're almost there."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes adorably.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Taylor teased. He got a groan in response.

Justin awkwardly hugged his son. "We're gonna miss you, ya know that, right?" Evan hugged back, nodding into his chest.

"I'm gonna miss you too Papa." He mumbled. Abruptly he turned and hugged the driver, who tried his best to hug him back with one arm. "I'm gonna miss you Daddy."

Taylor smiled sadly. "I know buddy. Me too."

It was with red-rimmed eyes that the three Levey-Bensons pulled up to the school building. It was 8:29, and there were at least 2 dozen students already there in the parking lot. Taylor parked the truck, and hopped out. Justin got out, followed by Evan. Taylor grabbed the small, dark blue duffle bag that weighed next to nothing out of the truck bed and handed it to his son. Evan was pale, feeling the eyes of all his fellow students on his family. "Have fun, kiddo."

"Behave. And do your homework." Justin added.

Breaking his own rule, Evan hugged them both one last time. "Love you," he whispered.

"Love ya too." They answered in unison, equally quiet. They watched Evan walk over to Dr. Fitzgerald, who checked his name off a list, and saw him wave. That was their cue to leave, so they got back in the truck and drove home, the whole time wondering if they made the right choice by letting him go.

"Evan, if you want to put your stuff in the bus, you can go do that now with the others." Dr. Fitzgerald offered, seeing Evan's hesitation.

The boy barely smiled. "Okay." He walked slowly, not looking forward to the barrage of questions he was likely to get. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up from Taylor, exposing his bare forehead. Well, really it was a powerful glamour that wasn't detectable, or removable except by the caster. It would prevent Evan from being exposed as the "Boy Who Lived" at Hogwarts. As he boarded the jet black double-decker bus, he wondered what spells had created the scrolling, flashing, and language shifting words on the side that declared the bus was from Salem Wizarding Academy, "A Premier School of Varied Magics and Advanced Learning."

The bus itself was obviously expanded on the inside, to allow room for the hundred or so students that were going. Comfy, crimson armchairs lined the left and right walls all the way to the back. Twin beds with red and black striped sheets covered the rest of the area, with two or three feet between each bed. The beds were three wide, and stretched to the back as well. At a quick glance, Evan guessed there were seventy or eighty beds on this floor. Evan, seeing that this level was empty, proceeded up the stairs to the next floor, which was decorated in the same school colors. This level had several bags already on beds near the back, so Evan plunked his duffel down on one near the front, which so far didn't have neighbors. He could feel eyes on him as he sat down in one of the chairs.

Almost instantly, he was surrounded by a dozen boys, all of whom were on the Quodpot team with him.

"I thought there was an age restriction, Evan." The tallest, Ben, stated bluntly.

Evan shrugged. "It was a grade level actually."

"Who were those guys who dropped you off?"

Ben shoved the loudmouthed Nate good-naturedly. "Dude! Did you have to be so blunt about it?"

Evan lowered his head, blushing a bit. Ben was rather attractive, after all. "Um," the other boys stopped bickering to hear him. "My parents."

"What?" Ben asked, a frown on his face.

"It's not really that hard of a concept." He sniped quietly. "They're life partners, and they adopted me when I was three," he added a bit louder.

A collective "oh" went around the group. They dispersed quickly, and Evan had thought they all left until someone sat down next to him. Startled, he looked over to see brown eyes staring at him.

"Why are you still over here? Your friends went back to their seats already."

Ben grinned at him. "Come on! I've been on the Quod team with you since, what, second year? And this is the most detail I've heard about you, other than you're like two years younger than us."

Evan cleared his throat self-consciously. "Three, actually."

Ben blinked. "What?"

"I'm 14."

"Shit, dude! We all thought you were 15!" Ben himself was 17. His birthday wasn't until February, making him on the younger end of the grade. He was also the tallest, at nearly 6'3". "Just how smart are you?" Ben teased gently.

He turned even redder as he shrugged.

"Are you going to contribute anything to this conversation other than a shrug and a cute blush?"

He flushed brighter at being called cute. "So far I haven't really had to say anything," he replied quietly. "You've done all the talking for me."

Ben laughed. "That's true." He paused to gather himself. "What are you doing after we graduate?"

Evan blinked, looking him directly in the eye. Talking about a specific topic made him a bit less shy, since it allowed him to focus on the topic and not the person he was talking to. "I'm not entirely sure. It depends on where I am with my apprenticeship, but I was sorta planning on going to college part time to get a degree in teaching."

"Wow," the older boy commented. "That's heavy stuff. What are you apprenticed in? I mean, it's kinda weird you have an apprenticeship already."

"Necromancy."

"Shit, dude!" Evan smiled as Ben's eyes widened. "That's awesome! I wanted to do Necromancy, but I didn't have an affinity for it. You're really lucky."

Evan blushed again. "Thanks. What are your plans?"

He shrugged."I'm going to college, definitely, but I'm trying to decide whether I want to go into magical physics or regular physics."

Evan perked up. "You like physics?"

The pair immediately launched into a conversation involving complex equations and theories relating to expansions of interiors. The next thing they knew, all the seats around them had been filled, and the principal was trying to get everyone's attention.

"Okay, everybody!" He spoke normally, but it echoed throughout the bus, quieting everyone. "We'll be leaving in five minutes. This is your last chance to grab something from outside of the bus." Evan glanced at the bed quickly, making sure his bag was still there. "Let's go over some rules.

"I expect all of you to be on your best behavior. We'll be arriving at 2 in the afternoon their time. We'll have a chance to look around the school, mingle, and so on. There will be a feast of sorts for our honor, so please dress up. If you didn't bring anything nice, transfigure it. If you suck at transfiguration, come see me or ask around and see who is good at it.

"The selection of the competitors happens on Halloween night, so we'll have a few days to relax and enjoy the sights. Watch your language, _please_. There are students that are ages 11 through 17, in a boarding school, so chances are they're a bit sheltered." He glanced at his watch. He sat down quickly in a chair at the front. "Everyone sit down! We leave in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

The world around the bus spun, whirled, contorted, and reversed. The passengers felt the smallest of bumps as it landed on a flat, grassy area between a lake and an impressive castle.

At Hogwarts

The Beauxbatons students had arrived the night before, in their elegant powder blue carriage pulled by flying horses. The whole school was abuzz with rumors of how the other school would arrive. It wasn't even a European school, so the rumors quickly grew to ridiculously obscene ("they'll burrow out of the ground!", "they'll transport themselves with FIREBALLS!").

Even Draco Malfoy, Ice Prince of Slytherin, was excited. Of course, no one knew the extent of his excitement, and no one knew why, but he was. He would get to see Evan today, at two. For some reason, Salem Wizarding Academy had been extremely precise when telling Dumbledore their arrival time. Beauxbatons had only been able to give him an estimated time with a leeway time of half an hour on either side.

So, at ten minutes until two o'clock, the entirety of the student body was ushered outside to greet the new school. The Beauxbatons students had elected to stay inside their house, away from the cold.

Everyone, aside from Dumbledore, jumped when a double decker bus simply appeared on the grass in front of them. It was jet black, and on one side, words declared the school name and code.

The doors opened. A somewhat short, completely unintimidating middle aged man stepped off the bus. He was grinning. The most astonishing thing, however, was his attire. He wore black trousers, a red shirt, and a black vest. He approached Dumbledore, hand outstretched. "You must be Albus Dumbledore. It's wonderful to meet you." They shook hands. "I'm Adam Fitzgerald, Principal of Salem Wizarding Academy."

"Wonderful to meet you as well, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"It's Doctor, actually," he corrected smoothly. "I have a Ph. D. in English, physics, and psychology."

"My apologies." Dumbledore smiled, hiding his wonder at what a Ph. D. was. "Are your students shy?"

Dr. Fitzgerald grinned sheepishly. "No, sorry. I didn't want to overwhelm you. There's quite a few of them. SWA is a rather large school, you see. "

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "That's fine. I'm sure we can handle it."

The short, unrobed man nodded briskly. "Everyone out!" His voice carried as well as if he had cast a Sonorous Charm.

Seconds later, students came pouring out of the bus, until nearly a hundred student stood in front of it. All of them were wearing the same basic outfit- jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. The Americans could tell by the stares that they were being labeled as strange, or maybe even eccentric. The Hogwarts students and staff were all wearing robes, elaborate Victorian era attire, very different from their own.

Evan was searching for Draco, but in the midst of the crowd, he couldn't really see anyone, which meant no one could see him, so it was good for his nerves.

"Dr. Fitzgerald, exactly how big is your school?" Professor McGonagall asked, voice shaky.

"Well, the whole school is close to 900 kids. These are just the students that fit my standard of application for this shindig."

"Which was?" Dumbledore pried, trying to see how he could work this to his advantage, especially if Harry Potter had met the standard.

"Students in sixth or seventh year, with a cumulative GPA of at least 2.8, and have the work ethic to keep up with their regular classes if they are selected." He paused. "And parental permission, of course."

"Of course." Dumbledore forced a smile. What in Merlin's name was a GPA?

The SWA boys were getting restless. Dumbledore noticed this, and smiled. "Why don't you and your students come in? Everyone can go to the Great Hall to mingle. Minerva, would you mind inviting Madame Maxime up to the castle?" She nodded, and practically stalked off to the house parked near the lake. "Please, follow me."

Dr. Fitzgerald gestured, and his students walked after him. They passed through the Hogwarts students in rows of about 4, some people getting practically shoved aside. Somehow, Ben ended up next to Evan, who walked on one end of the row, the closest to the strange students. As luck would have it, Draco was standing on the edge of the gap, on the side his friend was on. He had purposefully chosen the end, as he would get the best vantage point of the passing students. The blonde smirked as the black haired boy approached slowly, and received a broad grin in return.

"Hey you." Draco whispered when he was next to him.

"Hey yourself," was all Evan could get out as the line pushed him forward in an unsuspected surge.

Noticing the smiles and blushes, Ben spoke up. "What was that about?"

"Oh!" Evan was startled that Ben had noticed. "Um, he's a friend of mine I met last summer. We've been writing all year."

"A friend, huh?" Ben winked at him. "Does this mean I've got competition?"

Evan frowned in confusion. "Competition? For what?"

Ben smiled, shaking his head. "Never mind."

At that moment, they entered a large empty hall. The only decoration in the room were three large banners hanging from wall to wall, each baring a different school's name, emblem, and motto. Shortly after all the SWA students were in the hall, two dozen beautiful girls came billowing in, led by a woman who was easily ten feet tall. Behind them came the Hogwarts students, amounting to about 250 all together. The three "Heads" of the schools gathered to talk, and the teenagers did as suggested- mingled.

While his classmates tried to impress the beautiful girls, Evan tried to find Draco. He fought his way to a wall, hoping that would give him a better vantage point. He saw many pale blondes, but none of them were the one he sought. Had Draco decided not to come? Did he change his mind?

A blonde boy suddenly appeared in front of him, grinning. His grey-blue eyes were staring right into Evan's green ones. "Hey you."

Evan couldn't hold back the smile bursting on his face. "Hey." A hand wrapped around his, tugging him gently out of the hall. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere more quiet."

"But-," Evan hesitated. "How will I know when my school goes back to the bus to change before dinner?"

Draco stopped just outside of the doors to the Hall, dropping the American's hand. "Fine," he sighed petulantly. "We'll stay out here. It's quieter than in there, and you can see when they start to leave." Suddenly, there was a body pressed against his, arms wrapping around to his back, and a face pressed into his shoulder. His nose met with jet-black hair.

Evan was hugging him. Draco hadn't hugged anyone before, let alone been hugged. He tentatively wrapped his hands around the smaller boy's waist. After a few seconds, he relaxed, sniffing the top of Evan's head. He smelt nice.

The American had closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth and the scent of musk. The hug lasted a great deal longer than it normally would have. They only separated because they heard footsteps coming down the hall. Not knowing if they were allowed to be out of the Hall, the boys ducked into a small alcove a few yards away from the doors.

The footsteps stopped, and then started again in a different direction. Laughing, Evan quickly forgot about his nerves as they began discussing the finer details of arithmancy they were unable to accurately talk about through their letters.

"See, I never understood that." Draco was frustrated. "How did they derive that equation? The potency of phoenix tears is exponentially greater than that of powdered unicorn horn, but the equation itself makes no sense!"

Evan nodded enthusiastically. "I know! I didn't understand it either, until the teacher had me derive the equation." He quickly transfigured a piece of lint into a sheet of paper, and a pebble into a pencil. He began writing frantically. "Strictly volume speaking, 4 drops of phoenix tears are equivalent to a slice of unicorn horn a fourth of an inch in diameter and a fourth of an inch in width."

"Whoa, wait!" Draco held his hand up. "What the bloody hell is an inch?"

The door to the Great Hall swung open. The SWA students came pouring out. Ben spotted Evan, and went over to him, smiling.

"Hey Evan. We're all heading back to the bus to change. You coming?"

Evan smiled back at him, his nerves calmed by Draco's presence. "Yeah, sure. Oh, this is Ben. He's in my grade. This is Draco, the friend I was telling you about."

Ben forced his smile to stay on his face. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Draco forced. He knew competition when he saw it.

Evan stood, unaware of the sudden tension. "See you at dinner, Draco?"

He smiled. "Of course. I'll save you a seat." He sent a triumphant smirk at Ben as soon as Evan's back was turned. The older boy just glared.

As Evan and the rest of SWA students re-entered the Great Hall, they noticed the sudden stillness and stares. All the Hogwarts students had obviously assumed they would be going back to the bus to change into robes, but instead they all wore black dress pants and dress shoes, as well as a button up shirt of some kind. Being teenage boys, the majority of them just raised their heads high and smirked, hiding cringes at the accusing looks.

It was at this moment that Dr. Fitzgerald realized something. Each and every other person in the hall (besides the caretaker and the groundskeeper, of course) was wearing some form of robe. Inwardly, he winced at the backwards fashion. Robes in America had lessened in popularity once they started expanding further south into warmer territories, and the style was completely obliterated by the time the Civil War occurred. He calmly led his students to the empty table reserved, he assumed, just for them, positioned between the Hogwarts table with snakes on their robes and the table with ravens on their robes. He himself walked up to the Head Table, to sit next to Dumbledore. Madame Maxime was sitting on Dumbledore's left, with Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, next to her. On Dr. Fitzgerald's other side sat Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Other adults, whom he assumed were members of the Hogwarts staff, filled out the rest of the table.

Evan was careful to position himself directly behind Draco, who turned and winked at him quickly. Ben had sat next to him, and his Quodpot teammates had followed suit, surrounding the younger boy. It was strange; Ben had never paid that much attention to him outside of practice and games, so what was with the sudden attachment at the hip?

He was distracted from his rambling thoughts by the Headmaster standing. Silence fell over the hall immediately.

"It is my honor to welcome Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons and Dr. Fitzgerald of Salem Wizarding Academy and their students to Hogwarts. It has been a great many years since such international cooperation has been seen amongst our students." His eyes twinkled infuriatingly, resting briefly on Evan, who merely gave him a warning glare. The eyes moved on.

"As you all know, Hogwarts has the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year." He paused dramatically. "Each of the schools will have one champion, selected by an impartial judge." The Headmaster nodded towards the caretaker standing near the doors. Immediately, he stepped outside, and brought in a small cart bearing a gaudily ornate and bejeweled box. When it reached the head table, the caretaker lifted it off the cart with some difficulty and placed it on the table in front of the Headmaster. Dumbledore took great care in opening the lid of the casket, and drew out an unremarkable wooden cup. It was a large, roughly hewn goblet, with the only unique quality being the brilliant blue-white flames contained within it. "The Goblet of Fire shall select the best candidate from each school to compete.

"I must warn you, though. Once the name comes from the Goblet, you are entered into a magically binding contract from which you will suffer dire consequences if you try to break it. The tasks given to the Champions will test your magical prowess, daring, powers of deduction, and of course, your ability to cope with danger." He paused again, sweeping his eyes over the Hall. "It is because of the great risks involved that the International Confederation of Wizards, along with the judges, made the initial plan to have an age restriction that no one under the legal age should compete."

Evan's heart sank, and he saw equal disappointment on many faces surrounding him. Had they really come all this way to not even be able to put their names in?

"However, there were circumstances which made this a bit unwelcome. I'll let Principal Fitzgerald explain the rest, as he had a major part in these negotiations." Dumbledore sat, and Dr. Fitzgerald rose.

"Hello," he smiled warmly. "I'm Dr. Fitzgerald. You can call me Dr. Fitz, if you want. For those of you who don't know, Salem Wizarding Academy isn't a conventional school. We believe in advancing students when they are ready, not when their age dictates. For that reason, many of the students in their sixth and seventh years of schooling are under the age of majority in America, as well as being under aged here. I had other requirements the students had to meet before I would allow them to participate, to weed out those who I felt would not be able to keep up with their schoolwork and this competition. Due to the age difference thingy," he got a few giggles from his improper words, "we couldn't simply draw an Age Line as was Headmaster Dumbledore's initial plan.

"I was able to come up with a different magical boundary, with the help of a few members of International Federation of Magical Beings. It's a complicated thing, so I won't bore you with the details, but essentially it's a warding circle made up of runes, and it will be able to tell which level of schooling you are in." He paused, grinning. "Oh, and don't bother trying to use an Age Potion, or anything like that, or Polyjuice, for that matter. Once a student has stepped over the line, the wards won't let them back into the circle."

Shock flew through the hall at his words. Those were complicated runes, and an even more complicated set of wards! Even Dumbledore looked slightly stunned at the revelation. The SWA students held their heads up, reveling in the fact that their backwoods and quirky principal had so quickly impressed these pompous witches and wizards.

"Any questions?" Dr. Fitzgerald added, smiling calmly. "Okay, I'll let Headmaster Dumbledore here continue then."

The old wizard stood again, trying to hide his unease at the unassuming man he had severely underestimated. He worked with the IFMB, the highest of international authorities, above even the ICW. That alone spoke wonders about his reputation in America. But he would focus more on that later, once he had time to think about what that meant for Harry's education. "Students will be able to enter their names starting after dinner tonight, until noon on the thirty-first. The names will be decided after dinner that night. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall. Normally, the visiting students would only be here two days before the actual drawing, but the IFMB decided that it would be better for international cooperation if they were allowed to interact for a full week. Now, I think that's enough talk. Tuck in!"

Mountains of food suddenly appeared on the previously bare silver platters on the tables. The Americans jumped in shock. All their meals at SWA either came from home, or were purchased in the cafeteria, much like the muggle school system. They had never experienced anything like this before! The tables were laden with unrecognizable foods, ranging from weird to just gross. There were scattered platters of familiar items, like cheeseburgers, fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and onion rings. There was some sort of weird orange juice in the pitchers, along with what were Coke, or Pepsi, and water. The weird juice smelled nothing like oranges, though. Harry turned around, tapping his friend on the shoulder. "Draco, what is this?"

The blonde pureblood made a face at the pitcher. "Pumpkin juice. I've never been a real fan of it, myself." He chuckled at the face Evan made.

"Ew!" he quickly turned back to his own table, passing on the word of what the mysterious substance was. All but a few dared students immediately pushed the pitchers away and reached for the soda or the water. Evan turned back to Draco, eyes glinting with happiness. "So, what do you suggest? I don't know what half this stuff is."

Draco took a quick peek up at the head table, noticing that only Professor Snape was looking towards them. He was up in a second, sliding quickly into the small space between Evan and a brown-skinned boy. He ignored the eyes he felt glaring at him from the other side of Evan.

He giggled, turning a bit pink. Draco's knee was touching his, and it made pleasant sparks of warmth slide up his spine. "Draco! Won't you get in trouble for this?"

The British boy smirked. "Don't worry. You're an international student; I'm expanding my cultural knowledge." He spent the next few minutes pointing out dishes like bouillabaisse, steak and kidney pudding, and others Evan didn't recognize. In turn, Evan introduced him to the marvel that is a hotdog and Coke.

"But what is it?" he practically whined.

"It's processed pork. That's all you need to know. And Coke's pretty much liquid sugar and carbonation. Now just try it!" Evan was getting frustrated. His friend was apparently a picky eater.

"Only if you try the steak and kidney pudding." He smirked.

Evan blanched, and then sighed. "Fine. But you first."

Warily, Draco lifted the bread-encased meat product and took a large bite. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. His eyebrows rose. "Not bad." He took a sip of the soda, and choked. He coughed, eyes watering. "Bubbles! Fizzing and bubbling and ugh!" Evan burst out laughing at the look of disgusted shock on Draco's face. Obviously the soda didn't agree with him. "Okay, now you have to eat!" He resisted the urge to smile gleefully at the pout appearing on Evan's face. He staunchly ignored the conversations in American accents around him, talking about the strangeness of the shyest boy in school knowing someone here.

Evan bravely raised a spoonful of the lumpy mixture, and stuck it in his mouth. His expressive eyes showed his disgust before he even finished chewing, and he could barely swallow. He immediately gulped down most of his glass of water. "Ewww! That's so… icky… and chewy… and squishy and gross!" Draco burst out laughing, scaring several of the Slytherins behind them. No one had heard Draco laugh, really laugh, in a long time. Evan turned pink, but was pleased that he made his normally reclusive and introverted friend happy.

As dinner progressed, and the teenage boys filled the never ending pits called stomachs, Evan grew suddenly aware of the tension between his British friend and his American Quodpot teammates. Draco kept smirking at Ben, almost smugly, when he thought Evan wasn't looking, and Ben in turn was outright glaring! Evan frowned as he realized that he had almost completely ignored the American throughout the meal. Draco had manipulated his time nicely. Not that he minded, since he didn't know when he would be able to see the boy next. He went to school with Ben every day, however, and could easily talk to him and apologize if need be. So, he continued talking with Draco, and somehow they came upon the topic of the SWA students' sleeping arrangements.

"The Beauxbaton girls have beds in their house, but if you don't have beds on that bus of yours, you can have mine Evan..." Draco offered, smiling softly. Evan blushed a bright red, reading more from that statement than a simple friendly offer, even though he knew Draco couldn't possibly like him back.

"We have beds, thanks." Ben cut in abruptly, as if he was waiting for an opportunity to cut in. "Dr. Fitz expanded the interior."

Draco perked up, looking at Evan. "Really?! Using the particle compressing spell, right?"

Evan grinned. "Yup! I knew I could teach you!"

The blonde turned a bit pink, but ignored the heat rising to his cheeks at the praise. "Well, if I can get you to brew a proper potion, I'll know miracles can happen," he teased.

He pouted. "C'mon, Draco! That's not fair! I can brew potions fine!"

"In theory," Draco said with him, triggering Evan to grin sheepishly and bite his bottom lip, an act the blonde boy wanted to just coo at him for.

Ben stared, awed that this British kid knew Evan so well that he could predict what he was going to say, and say it simultaneously! He hadn't thought anyone knew Evan that well.

The desserts appeared a few moments later, and again the Americans were left staring at the variety of foods, many of which were barely recognizable, and others, which were pleasant surprises. "Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!" Evan practically drooled, snagging several of the brightly wrapped packages. "My favorite!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What are they?"

Evan stopped his opening of the orange plastic to stare at him. "You've never had one? You poor, deprived soul!" He shook his head sadly, grabbing another handful from the platter and shoving it at the other boy. "Its peanut butter surrounded in chocolate. The best invention ever."

Mere moments later, Draco whole-heartedly agreed with him. "Why don't we have these here?"

Evan shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe 'cause they're non-magical?" A box was thrust suddenly at him. "What's this?"

"A chocolate frog." Draco explained. "It has a spell on it, so it gets one good hop in, and it comes with a collectible card, like, um…" he paused, trying to think of a good metaphor. He snapped his fingers. "Like those Poke-man things you were telling me about!"

Evan looked vaguely sick. "You eat chocolate that moves?" He shoved it away somewhat violently. "No thanks. I don't really like to eat something that reminds me of a living thing. And you mean Pokémon."

Draco frowned at him, the slightest tinge of green on his face. "I hadn't thought about them like that before." He looked at the harmless box in his hands and sighed. "They tasted good, too." He put it back on the table, opting to grab a slice of pumpkin pie instead.

Evan just looked at him, eyes crinkled into a small frown. "You never thought about it like that before? Seriously? It's disturbing, Dray." He calmly munched on his peanut butter cup, unaware of the sudden silence from the Slytherins within earshot.

No one got away with calling Draco anything other than his given name, not even his mother. No one had ever tried, well, except for Ron Weasley, but he was doing it to insult him. So the snakes held their breath in anticipation of the cold, even voice to smack the American back in his place.

But it didn't come. Instead, Draco started, looked at Evan, and _smiled_!

"It is, but it's one of the favorite chocolates here, so I never thought of it as anything but. Besides, Ev, you should be concerned with the Every Flavor Beans. They have some nasty stuff in some of the boxes."

The Slytherins were in shock. The Ice Prince hadn't shattered the strange boy's hopes for friendship; he had barely even reacted! He had even called him something back! He _never_ did that! No matter how many times his few friends would ask, he consistently called them by their full first names, especially if it was something embarrassing, like Millicent.

While the Slytherin snakes pondered, Evan and Draco continued as if nothing special had transpired.

"How were your parents this morning?" Draco teased lightly. "Have any last minute doubts?"

Evan grinned, blushing lightly. "Yeah, a bit. Papa was wicked nervous." He rolled his eyes.

"Like your dad before a show?"

Evan laughed "Worse!" The blonde chuckled.

Ben frowned. "A show? What does your dad do?"

Evan blinked at him, turning slightly away from Draco to do so. "He gets really stressed out before his shows. He's an artist."

Draco smirked. "A bloody brilliant artist at that. My father bought some of his work."

The American boy smiled proudly. "Yeah, he is pretty good."

At that point, the Headmaster of Hogwarts rose. "I hope all of you enjoyed your meals. Before I send you all off, Doctor Fitzgerald has something to say."

The shorter man rose, grinning widely. "Thank you for this wonderful feast, Albus. I just wanted to tell my students that we are all going back to the bus, so you all can have a work session. Homework packets are due by ten tomorrow morning, so make sure you pass them in to me by then, alright?" He sat back down, nodding at his host.

"Just a few more parting words." The eccentric old man smiled. "Arcanus, nomen,facio, scio!"

As the students began to rush out the door, Evan frowned. Was that old man threatening him? 'Secret name to make I know?' What was that even supposed to be, Yoda-speak? A warm hand on his shoulder shook him out of his paranoid thoughts. Blue-gray eyes shone down at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Evan smiled at Draco. "Of course! What time does breakfast start here?"

"Six thirty. See you at seven?" Draco half-smiled.

He crinkled his nose and sighed. "I guess. I'm not much of a morning person." He confessed. He glanced around, noting the hall's near emptiness and lack of observers before he stood on his tip toes and just barely brushed Draco's cheek with his mouth. Bright red, he whispered, "good night," and practically fled the room.

Nearing an unfortunate shade of deep pink himself, the Malfoy heir put a hand to his cheek in shock. His face slowly shifted to a cocky smirk. Evan liked him. The fourteen-year-old strode confidently to his room, overjoyed that his friend had kissed his cheek.

Back on the bus, Evan sat down in one of the chairs and pulled out his homework packet. He had to find the limits of ten different equations for Calculus, do five physics problems, read a chapter for his Physics of Magic class, as well as one for his spell creation and healing classes, all by tomorrow. He had a worksheet of wards due by the end of the week, a sheet of runes to translate over the next two days, and the names of twenty major stars and constellations to memorize before the week was up. Thankfully, Vince was giving him a break this week on the work load, as he knew how anxious his apprentice would be.

Ben sat loudly next to him, disrupting him from looking through his calculus text book. "So, you said you wanted to teach."

Evan sighed, trying to focus back on his work. "Yes."

"Why?"

He rolled his eyes, setting his book down to look at the older boy. Clearly he wasn't going to be left alone. "Because I like it. Part of my apprenticeship was teaching the new Necromancy students for a few days, and I tested some of the prospective students for an affinity for it. I like explaining how physics works too." It took all of Evan's self control to not scream in frustration as Ben refused to get the hint and leave him alone to do his work. After a few more minutes of meaningless, fairly one-sided conversations, Evan broke down and he glared at Ben. "Look, have you done your homework already? Because I'm still doing mine, and you're not letting me do it."

Ben's eyes widened. He had never seen Evan lose his temper before, and now he was glaring at the older teen! "Um….Sorry? I'll just, um, go do my work then." He stood and made his way back to his friends, still stunned at the evil look in Evan's eyes.

The young necromancer smiled, and settled in to do his homework, glad that his channeling of his anger worked. After another two hours, he was done with his work and was able to settle down on his bed and work on a sketch of Hogwarts. It was nearly ten, almost time for lights out, when Evan noticed his neighbor to the left. Ben had moved where he was sleeping to be next to him. Evan refused to acknowledge him, even after being given an extremely hopeful smile.

It wasn't long after lights-out at ten thirty that Evan began to panic. He could hear what seemed like hundreds of people breathing all around him, surrounding him, suffocating him. In the dark, they were everywhere. He couldn't get away. He shot up, quickly and quietly snagging his sketchpad and pencil box from his bag, so he would have an excuse if Dr. Fitz caught him.

He made his way to the doors of the bus, and then stood there. What wards would the principal have put on the bus? He closed his eyes to think, spreading out a gentle touch of his wand-less magic to test the wards. They were rather simple, but also rather unbreakable. The wards consisted of two layers: a detection layer and a protection layer. The detection system would notify the caster if any changes were made to the wards, or if anyone passed through the barrier to the outside. The protection layer prevented anyone on the outside from getting through without dismantling the wards completely, which would set off the detection layer. The fourteen-year-old felt the panic seep into him the longer he stood there. He couldn't get out. It was so dark and cramped; so many people surrounding him. He breathed in through his nose and out though his mouth, calming his heartbeat before he passed out.

Ever so gently, he reached out with his magic and began shaping a bubble to reflect the sensing webs of the wards away from him. It was like deflecting lasers with tinfoil. It just had to reflect invisible beams of magic instead. Slowly, he inched forward until he could open the door of the bus. Without breaking a sweat, he put a silencing charm on the bus in case the door was rigged to set off a manual alarm. Thankfully, when the door cracked open, no such alarm went off within the silencing spell.

Once outside, Evan made a break for the trees he had seen by the lake, not that far away from where the bus was parked. Additionally, it had the perfect view of the castle at night, with the moon shining brightly. It was the full moon two nights ago, so he was safe from any werewolves that might be in the forest, but he still set a proximity alarm to warn him of when anything passed within a thirty foot radius of him.

Evan was so enthralled with his sketch after twenty minutes that he barely noticed the small twinge in his head telling him that something just triggered the proximity alarm. Looking up towards the castle, he noticed someone walking towards him that he had ignored before. The smaller boy smiled up at the teen walking towards him, illuminated by the moonlight. "Wait!" he called out to him, softly.

Draco stopped, confused. "What?"

The teen took out a camera from his pencil case. It wasn't a very fancy one, but it was small and it did the trick. "I want to take a picture of you, so I can paint it later. The moon looks beautiful on your hair. It's like its glowing." It looked more like Draco himself was glowing, but Evan wasn't about to tell him that he wanted to take the picture because of his near ethereal beauty. "Tilt your chin slightly upwards. A little less. Put your hands in your pockets."

"I don't have pockets." The Slytherin called back.

Evan frowned, thinking. "Try putting your hands behind your back, and relax your shoulders." He paused, studying the silhouette. "Hm… not working for me. Hook one thumb in the top of your pants, and leave your other hand dangling by your thigh." Draco did as bid, giving him a slight smirk. The camera went off before Draco could move. "Perfect. Don't move." Evan snapped off a few more pictures from different angles, making sure he had plenty to get the lighting right later on. "Okay, you can come over here now."

Draco laughed lightly, plopping himself down beside the smaller boy. "I've never seen you so… commanding before."

The American blushed. "Sorry. I can't help it sometimes, when it comes to pictures."

Draco bumped their shoulders together lightly. "I don't mind. I actually enjoyed it." Draco's dirty, dirty teenage mind instantly flew to other situations in which he could enjoy Evan taking control. Before his mind wandered too far, he blurted out the question he had come out of the castle to ask. "What are you doing out here so late?"

Evan giggled. "I could ask the same thing of you, I think." He shrugged. "I was getting panicky. Claustrophobic. Too many people for me, in too small of a space. I think it reminded me too much of the orphanage."

Draco frowned. "Orphanage? The one you were at before your dads adopted you?"

He nodded. "Yup. It was pretty tight quarters for so many of us. I mean, they were up to code and legal and everything, and they were good to me, but I never slept really well until I got my own room, where I couldn't hear other people breathing." He paused, rethinking parts of his childhood. "Well, I can sleep fine if there's one or two other people in the room with me. Like, when I had nightmares, I would sneak into my parents' room, and sleep in their bed, and it would calm me down. But when we had naptime in kindergarten, I freaked out. I think that's part of the reason they were so eager to have me move into first grade."

There was a long silence, and they both slid backwards to rest their backs on the wide trunk of the tree shading them. Draco finally got the courage to ask something else. "Why did you kiss my cheek in the hall, after dinner?" He glanced over at Evan, only to see his eyes shut, and his breathing even. Of course. One of the oldest clichés. He goes to ask the most important question, and he's asleep. Bloody figures. He shook his head, and just watched the beautiful boy for a little while.

What he didn't know was that Evan was pretending to be asleep, so he didn't have to answer the question. Truth be told, he didn't know why he did it. It just felt right. The longer he pretended to be asleep, the more tired Evan felt. After a few minutes, fake sleep turned into real slumber, and his head fell to the side, stopping its decent on Draco's shoulder.

The blonde aristocrat turned bright red. Evan was sleeping on his shoulder! He was so CUTE! Draco closed his eyes. He didn't just think that word, did he? Oh well. It was just a thought. He can pretend it never happened. He grinned, a devious plan entering his head. Gently, Draco slid his left arm from off his lap, and eased it behind Evan's back, resting on the other boy's left ribs. He then bent his head to rest lightly on top of Evan's. Before drifting off completely, he set an alarm with his wand, to go off just before sunrise to allow both of them to sneak back into their beds without being missed. Both teenagers slept deeply that night, gentle smiles on their faces.


	10. Important Author's Note

Hello, my dear readers.

Chapter One has just been replaced with the new version. I apologize for taking so long. It was really finished shortly before Christmas, but then my grandmother passed away, and I honestly thought I had already posted the new chapter. I've also been dealing with the reapplication process, as I have decided to transfer schools. As such, the second chapter may not emerge for a while. It depends on my stress levels, and when I get around to actually finishing the edits on that chapter.

Many thanks for your patience,

Dark Wolf Shadow


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